


Northernlights from the Tropical Planet of Numeea

by LoverOfElves



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Growing Up is Hard, M/M, More than slight deviations from the show, Slavery, Slight deviations from the show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverOfElves/pseuds/LoverOfElves
Summary: AU in which the Decepticons have won. All the Autobots have to adjust to their fates and new roles in this empire. Slavery is allowed and the Cybertronians have to rebuild as much as possible their civilization. Megatron doesn't care much for slave auctions, preferring forced family units, until he comes upon the name of a tiny youngling that once had meant a lot to him, weird as she might have seemed at first. But their meeting again will not be eased by the passing of years, quite the opposite.
Relationships: Bumblebee/Blitzwing Megatron/Optimus Prime Prowl/Jazz Prowl/Lockdown
Kudos: 6





	1. Civil War over Numeea

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I do not own Transformers. This is simply an hommage to what I like about it for people that enjoy it as well.

Neutral Bot Colony of Numeea, Small Tropical Planet.

The bots that had settled in this colony had not returned to Cybertron in ages. They had heard of the war but it was too far to be of much concern to them. As a security measure, they had firmly and officially stated to being neutral. Surviving on a tropical planet and trading with more technologically advanced colonies barely closer to Cybertron took most of their time. The main trading goods was in the extensive nickel mines and in the fruits that produced a sweet sort of energon, as well as in the energon that had to be painstakingly harvested offshore of the lagoons and coral reefs spreading all across the planet. The colonists lived either very near the nickel mines in the mountains of the interior of the quite small islands clustering together and at times lost in the immensity of the oceans stretching across the planet of Numeea. A lush rainforest and flora had developed, so rich that logging trees was just not worth the effort, leading to the mining of the nickel mostly underground to avoid the immense barks and gigantic roots. Other colonists had settled in small villages along the coasts of the different islands. However, their numbers remained very low and work was vital to continue commerce and get credits to further develop their homeland. Even space-bridges did not reach them, being present at best a few habitable planets too far. For many, especially the young ones, amassing credit was the only way to get off this planet with no perspective and escape from a life they had not chosen as their parents had decided to settle and not them, or they were too young to decide for themselves. For many of the young, spending their entire time picking the sand in their joints, wallowing in the mud, fighting the rains, battling against trees always regrowing and looking forward to a bit of energon only from a rickety shanty bar in a small town was plainly unbearable. They all wished to leave the planet to use their alt-mode in more productive ways and discover the marvels of the great bot cities, especially the city-states of Iacon, Kaon or Crystal City, just to name these ones. As for the war, they would see what it really was about and who knew? They could pick a side and earn fame and fortune. The nickel ore was their gateway out of Numeea and they wasted no time in gathering as much as they could. After all, the seams appeared endless and at times so prolific, yet hard to reach, that miners from other systems had had to be brought over before the war. Thanks to the conflict between Autobots and Decepticons, the colonists had to mine the nickel with only their own numbers or close to. All Cybertronians were occupied by the conflict and had even less time to spare for such a distant colony that also held a climate most unpleasant. 

Such a family unit, living near the equator of Numeea in a small settlement called Tontuta, felt such the pressures of settlement. The sire of the two younglings had a high position in the administration of the island and although he made quite a substantial amount more that most of the population, his job of looking at who owned the rights to the nickel and who could trade with the colony for what products took him long hours away from his home. Luckily, his alt-mode was a plane, which allowed him to travel fast to various locations of the planet. His sparkmate, a mech named Quickslap, had carried three sparklings and studied the different ways of gathering more energon, something that was becoming more dire for other colonies and therefore worthy of a lot of interests for the colonists. He also strived to work long hours but the prospect of more credits made him compliant to such a labor. He had grown steadily angry at being stuck on such an awful planet and longed to see again his family in Cybertron, especially with the distant echoes from the war. 

The first youngling was called Handsomesun. He had been a mech of a beautiful appearance at his birth and he had kept his good looks, attracting the envy of many of bots his age. He knew the sun of the planet enhanced his bronze and copper colors. Sure of himself, of his strength and of his charisma and popularity, he went out of his way in the mines to prove he was the most competent, using his alt-mode as a gigantic digging machine to reach the seams before anyone and picking up the best pieces of nickel. Quickslap and his sire Imposor were both proud of this firstborn and had immediately wished to reiterate such a feat that quickly brought credits to the home and pride to the family. But the miracle had not struck twice.

The third child had been named Spacetraveller. An apt name for a young mechling that could transform into a space shuttle and dreamed of nothing else than voyaging across the expanse of space. Until he gathered enough credit to travel to Cybertron to study how to work in space in earnest, he transported nickel to different points to help in its gathering and later shipping. His parents knew that his future laid elsewhere from Numeea, as his brother’s. Yet if Handsomesun just wished to go Iacon so as to hang out in bars and meet other mechlings, as well as finding a rich one to mate with so as to live in the lap of luxury the rest of his life by dazzling him with his goods looks of which he was most proud, Spacetraveller merely wanted to achieve his goal of finally seeing the mysteries and adventures of space, as well as helping others get goods to survive and aid in their times of need. Quickslap and Imposor had no doubt in their two mechlings’ capacities, even though they felt better about the last one’s life-project. But the amazing good looks of Handsomesun were worthy of their possessor’s attention and his smile and popularity blinded all, his parents included, and they too easily were reassured by his ideas of finding a rich sparkmate, reflecting that he must have enough intelligence to do something of his life afterwards. After all, he was extremely popular and was absolutely normal, unlike the second sparkling. This one had been a mistake. A mistake and treated as such.


	2. The Not-So-Good Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northernlights is taken to doctors that don't have her right interests at heart and is left to face the price of not being accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not the creator or owner of Transformers, I just enjoy it like others have done.

Centuries before the civil war that ravaged Cybertron...

The mistake had been called Northernlights and had been forced to live as a feral little femme, her alt-mode ultimately unknown and permanently jammed it seemed. Cast out, she had learned to live on her own in the forests, subsisting upon energon fruits and learning of the wildlife. 

Very quickly, Northernlights had shown her difference from those around her, even though she didn’t intend to do so. As a mere femme sparkling, she had shown curiosity towards the natural world surrounding her, spending hours gazing with her violet eyes at butterflies, carnivorous plants, flowers and other brightly colored insects, birds and fish as constituted the forests of her native world. Her eyes were indeed violet, different from the green, blue and yellow optics of the other bots. Long cables started growing from her helm, tentatively reaching and brushing against the cables on her neck then rapidly growing longer, forcing her to ties these in a ponytail. These were white, while her frame was turquoise, the same color as the seas around the island on which she grew up. She displayed absolutely no aptitude for tough work, or even light labor at that. Too small and frail, even her younger brother soon towered over her. She was only good at reading and asking questions. Questions that became a lot more increasing and bothersome to others as she read and reread the few datapads available.   
Even the local school had soon been at a lost as to what to do with her, she being unable to comprehend subjects such as advanced algebra or the mining sciences and geology, instead getting the highest scores in reading, history and literature. Unfortunately for her, these subjects were the least viewed as useful and the datapads on such material were scarce, the few computers being used exclusively by the adults and for more urgent purposes than satisfying the curiosity of a skinny femme that could bring nothing useful to the colony, and not even able to change into something, even less something of value in physical work.  
Around the age of seven in human terms, Northernlights had tried increasingly to use her alt-cog to transform and see what she could work at. With luck, it would be a vehicle needed to do work that would be valued and useful in the mining endeavors of the colony. It would be something to bring in credits as soon as schooling was considered over by the very beginning of younglinghood. An education did not bring ready credits. She had a chance to feel valued, wanted and perhaps a little bit important for the first time. However, looking at how petite their daughter was, both her parents knew it would be a miracle if anything to be proud came out of it. 

And without surprise, such a miracle had never come. Imposor and Quickslap did feel that they had spent all their miraculous luck resources with Handsomesun. By the time Northernlights had come, there was nothing to feel proud of left anymore and they had to wait for Spacetraveller to even out the average percentages of decent sparklings. Each time Northernlights tried to transform, her frame shifted somewhat and miniscule claws appeared upon her digits but it stopped there, no matter how hard she concentrated or how often she started again. Desperate, her parents had called for professional mechanical help.   
They had to wait a very long time to finally be able to see someone and in the meantime, things got worst than ever. Northernlights became even less adept at understanding mining techniques and physics, ending up with the same level of knowledge as younglings much younger than she and plunging into her own datapads even more to compensate. Unfortunately, not only was there a limited number of datapads but her questions became too advanced for the teachers that had had enough to do with her bad results in the more important subjects. Incapable of advancing the technology or performing a minimum amount of labor, she started being viewed as a definite hopeless case. The other sparklings grew tired of her interests and followed the same opinion s as the full-grown bots, these young bots at times being downright aggressive at her and even enjoying hurling insults and mockery at her, for no one would defend her. It never came as a shock that in fighting and combat classes her grades were poor. She was quick but with no physical strength she could hope for no victory. Hardpunch, her instructor, had merely concluded in his report that her only hope in case of combat was to climb a tree to the highest branch and pray that the other bot could not bring down said tree. Or use her size to crawl into a small hole and remain there until the danger had passed. She was indeed good at climbing trees but there were no trees in mines, so this was a talent less than useless.

A doctor had finally come to the far-flung planet, accompanied by his surgery assistant. He could not afford to send to his help messages and ask him to come. This would prove most inefficient and costly. Better to have him right on hand. He examined with other specialists those that came with different ailments. This was in effect an important event at any rate for there was no doctor in the colony and the arrival of a formal contingent of medics was always heralded as good news to this place so distant from the more important or even not-so-important planets.   
The mind doctor, Froid, had been performing diagnosis and his assistant Trepan had in turn changed for the better the minds of two or three patients. His last meeting before leaving concerned the parents of a sparkling that caused them much worry and anger.  
“Might as well finish on an easy case before leaving for good this muddy and humid backwater of a planet,” he thought

The parents had come with the little femme. “Little” was the word. He had issues believing she had reached two-thirds of her sparklinghood. He suspected malnutrition but quickly figured it was just her build that had somehow been programmed in a very unusual way. He asked the carrier what he had done during his pregnancy but nothing odd could be found. However, Froid did notice an embarrassed glance between the parents during the conversation. He had enough experience to conclude that they both knew something they refrained from saying aloud although he could not guess what. He would pretend he had not noticed. He had already said they needed to be honest. If they refused to speak truthfully, he could not do much about it. He examined the tiny femme and asked her some questions. She was more interested in literature and biology than in mining. It was quite common in the big cities and jobs and fields of studies could be found for such bots but he had no problem seeing how this scrawny femme would be a useless mouth siphoning energon on this colony that was so dependent on more advanced planet. Even though to her credit her intake must have been amongst the lowest of Numeea. He then asked her to shift to her alt-mod. Well, at least her parents were not lying about that. He could not guess what the beginning of her alt-mod could even be. So he made her lie down and asked Trepan to ran a scan through her helm.

Trepan became most excited by the results.  
“Her alt-mode cog in underdeveloped and the circuits of her mind much too extended. It is very rare to see, especially both cases in one single individual!”  
“If her mind circuits are so vast, why is she so useless in what matters?” asked Quickslap.  
Froid added in. “Large networks of circuits can be counter- productive. Too much information forces the mind to focus on only one relatively simple thing to not feel overwhelmed and shut down. Unfortunately, the mind of your daughter prefers to focus on things outside of what is most useful. It is possible that the circuits are also jamming the alt-mode cog, rendering it stuck and incapable of turning itself actively.”  
“But can something be done?” asked her sire anxiously.  
“I could try an operation,” intervened Trepan. I could turn off manually the extra circuits and redirect them in other areas of the mind to have her more focused on relevant fields. Her alt-mode cog can be removed and set straight. We have had some success with patients exhibiting extra-circuits to be cut off.  
Froid was less enthusiastic although he said nothing. The success rate occurred at a rate of 3% and all patients had been adults. The rest had merely become little more than lobotomized mechs with hardly any will or reflexes. Such an operation had never been performed on a sparkling.  
“Sire, Carrier, please, I don’t want to… I don’t want to have my head opened up… It will hurt…” the little femme started to cry. But none paid her real heed.   
“It is a delicate procedure and very time-consuming,” Froid said.   
“But it would be a medical advancement!” exclaimed Trepan with enthusiasm. “And your family life would be much easier, I can tell”.  
Froid continued. “ I would rather wait two or three years and see if there has been any significant changes to her mind circuitry. If not, it will mean her condition is stable and we can go ahead with the surgery. I will keep the scans of today as for future comparison.”  
“But with a young mind, recovery and adjustment would surely be very rapid and without after-effects” affirmed Trepan.  
“ Nevertheless, it is better to make sure. Three years will not be that long to wait. But what do you decide?” he asked Quickslap and Imposor as he turned towards them.  
“I guess in three years we would at least be more prepared,” admitted Quickslap.  
Northernlights, who had been crying silent tears, let out a small sob of relief, to then continue leaking transfluids because of the stress induced by the intense fear she had been through.   
“All right then,” simply concluded Froid. “Good luck with such a social case at home, though.”  
“We have two other normal ones.”  
“That’s a relief!” exclaimed Trepan. “Well, these screwed-up bots that pop up even in the best lineages are what keeps my interest rolling. They help science, in a way. I’ll help you get a normal sparkling, you’ll see. And you’ll proudly say afterwards you’ve even helped science a great deal. The glitches help us figure out what goes wrong and why. Your daughter will help others to not be born with the same defects. Thanks to you too!”  
“Trepan, if we want to get to the next colony without excessive tardiness, we have to hurry up,” Froid said.

That night, the dinner was tense. Quickslap and Imposor were happy to see a solution to their problems but were somewhat angry at the idea of waiting three more years to see an actual an end to the embarrassment that was their daughter.   
Handsomesun naturally lost no time in gathering all the details of the visit and to bully his little sister as soon as their parents were out of sight and out of earshot.  
“That’s true? They want to operate your mind? You know that’s only for the stupidest robots ever, right?” he whispered at the door of her tiny hab, her brothers sharing a much bigger hab room to themselves owing to their sizes and to the fact that they were two mechs.  
His bright yellow eyes, almost golden, glanced in a mean way. Even Specetraveller was there to enjoy the entertainment. Their parents were looking at the thin stream of news from the screen in the larger living-room.   
“Maybe afterwards you’ll stop asking all your stupid questions that no bot gives a slag about. Maybe you won’t finish as a burden and in a pit of scrap metal.”  
“Unlike you that just want to live like a parasite off the credits of another, just by virtue of your looks. Won’t staring into a mirror become boring after a few millennia, even for you? But I suppose at least then you won’t have to use your intelligence. Your only advantages are your looks, not your mind.”  
Handsomesun lost no time in lashing out at her, striking hard her on the face and instantly bringing tears to her eyes.  
“I’ve got my muscles too, see? You have neither looks, strength nor intelligence. At least the operation can’t make you more stupid or uglier. If you’re not better, then we’ll just tell the doctors to take you away. They’ll exhibit you as a freak or cut you into little pieces to see why you’re so badly programmed. Probably the latter because even for one credit, I don’t see why anyone would wish to stare at you. Even for free, actually.”  
Northernlights slammed the door in his face, earning her a yell from Imposor not to shut doors violently like that. Northernlights then let the tears leak freely upon her face. No one had even tried to defend her and asking his daughter if she realized how much a high-grade door made of good metal cost. No one had bothered to help her against her sibling. She curled up on her berth to recharge, drowning in her loss and sadness. She clutched her sea-dragon toy to her spark, crying softly. She knew she was different and felt she could do nothing about it.

Things got worst at school. The story of her meeting the doctors and being scheduled for surgery in three vorns or years had spread like wildfire. Each time she could not answer a question or failed to coin the correct answer the teacher would claim that at least in three years perhaps something could be done and everybot just had to put up with her for a little while. The other young bots at the school took this as a ready excuse for an increased set of bullying sessions. Northernlights lost badly each and every time, only to come back home with bruises. Her two fathers just sighed, not in compassion for her state but from how pitiful she looked, some of the bullies being vorns younger than she. Once Quickslap did speak out, but only to say that Spacetraveller had been able to defend himself for a long time now.

Each day, Northernlights prayed Primus for a friend, if only one, at least to share something with him or her and to forget her life a little. But as Primus did not seem to heed her, she spent an increasing amount of time in the forest. At least she was safe there and could indulge in looking at the animals. They appeared to be his only friends and their company was safer than the bots in Tontuta. In time, she found a cave dry enough near an energon stream and far from the small town. She took her toy, named Ocean, and her collection of seashells and coral bones from her hab and made herself a berth out of a hollowed piece of wood polished smooth by the salt of the sea from the beach and collected feathers so as to render it most comfortable. Over time, she stopped bothering going back home and her long absences did not seem to bother anyone. Her family even seemed disappointed whenever she came back, as if they had counted on her being gone longer or failing to get deactivated by accident. So Northernlights spent all her time foraging the jungle, carrying Ocean as if he was her own little sparkling and playing games of pretend as if she was a great biologist or explorer sent on expeditions to discover new lands. Yet even when she had fun collecting seashells from the magnificent beaches of white sand and ran in the waves for sheer entertainment, she always wished for a friend, at least to share these moments and to talk with someone that could understand and answer. And when at night she climbed the highest branches of trees, surrounded by sweet-smelling flowers, gazing at the stars and following the powdery trail of the Milky Way, she also prayed to Primus for a friend. She asked him to send this friend towards her quickly, even if he had to take a ship or cross mountain ranges and seas. But she worried Primus did not hear or care about her prayers. She must be a disappointment to all her ancestors as well, none wishing to look after such a defective femme like herself that brought only shame.

Little did she know that Primus had heeded her. He just also happened to possess a strange sense of humor right then.


	3. Stranger in the Rainforest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An accident leads to a strange and life-shattering encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I don't own Transformers. I am writing a story because I like the universe and so that others might enjoy it too. 
> 
> Northernlights is a sparkling or child so she will not have any sort of sexual interaction before she is fully adult. The same goes for any sparkling or character still in childhood in my story.

Centuries before the Civil War that ravaged Cybertronian culture...

Northernlights woke up with a start from her feathered berth. A low rumbling sound had shaken the earth enough to jolt her from her slumber. Tiny pieces of rock and dust had detached from the ceiling. She frowned and jumped nimbly from her perch. Luckily, the tremor seemed to be over, sensing the dying of the little earthquake in her pedes. The sun was just about to rise and the light outside was gray, enough to see rather well. The little femme rushed outside, afraid of a possible cave-in of her den and looked around her for signs of any slides or damages to the landscape, especially incoming lethal hazards. The birds had gone quiet but nothing seemed out of place. Tontuta was not in a seismic region in the first place. What could have happened? Or perhaps it really was an earthquake, however improbable? To be sure, she climbed a great tree to gaze over the canopy in order to be assured of her safety after this odd incident of nature. 

Perched high, she scanned the horizon and immediately gasped. To the west shone the distant electric lights of the town but at a more important distant to the south a great plume of smoke and the glowing tongues of gigantic fire had erupted. The fire must have been huge to be seen from such a distance. As she remained in the tree observing the scene, Northernlights could hear the faint sounds of alarm sirens, which must have been deafening on site and of vehicles running full-speed across the bumpy road to the site of the inferno. It took only a few minutes for the little femme to comprehend what she was witnessing. She had seen enough maps in the classrooms to know what lied south of Tontuta. That was where nickel mines were located and the metal was extracted for all it was worth in very deep underground galleries. These galleries held the constant danger of cave-ins and being set on fire because of inflammable materials or of simple accidents as she had often heard in mining classes and learned by force as a result. This must have been what had just occurred. A gigantic cave-in whose shockwave had reverberated across long distances to wake her up brutally. Fires must have then erupted all across the mine and galleries. She paled, wondering how many bots were now dead or brutally injured. Her sire and carrier did not work in the mines but her two mech siblings did. Fear seized her insides. What if they were dead and had suffered terribly? She did not like much Spacetraveller and the less she saw Handsomesun, the better she fared but them dead was quite a frightening and traumatic prospect. As long as she did not live under the same roof as her two brothers, she felt fine about their existence. She did not wish them dead. As for Quickslap and Imposor, they had been sorely disappointed and bitterly regretted her sparking but they had taken care of her when she was birthed and afterwards. They did what they could, especially since money was scarce and options for a useless sparkling such as she were few. She did remember cuddling and hugging her fathers long ago, when they still held hope to have her show interesting abilities and before her classes revealed the extent of her lack of aptitudes. She then stood resolute and clambered down the gigantic tree as fast as she could, rustling its leaves with great noise. She was going home to make sure her family was all right. It was far to her house and further still to the mines if she needed to travel there but she did not care. She was going to help if she could.

When she arrived to the house, she was tired but anxious to see who was present, dodging expertly the bots running and screaming in the streets, packing supplies and trying to keep in contact with their acquaintances. She barged in, slamming the door in and screaming the names of everyone. But no one answered. She called out again, more softly, and again, this time in a barely audible voice, more of a whisper. Where were they? Were they all dead? She was about to rush outside to gather help and information from neighbors when she heard loud pedes hitting the floor right behind her. She turned and saw Handsomesun.  
“What are YOU doing here?” he said by way of greeting. “Don’t you realize that we have enough trouble without you around?”  
“What happened?” she asked. “Are the parents and Spacetraveller all right?...”  
“Yeah, yeah. The parents have gone to help transport supplies and Spacetraveller was outside the mine repairing some poles with some older mechs. I was in the higher levels and got out in time. I’ve come to pick datapads for Sire and bring in some ropes and a few energon cans to the site. Every little will help.”  
Handsomesun did look worn, traces of dirt, soot and chipped paint smearing his frame, far from the usual impeccable appearance he sported outside his mining duties.  
“All right, I’ll come too! I can help with the cubes and give bots energon or…”  
“I said ‘every little helps’. You’re nor even worth that,” he spat. “You’re less than that. You wouldn’t be capable of doing anything and even though you don’t weigh much, you’ll take the space and weight of more important supplies. You can’t even transform at your age, remember?”  
He took all the tools and cubes of energon he could and rushed out, not even bothering to answer her question about what had occurred, leaving her alone in an empty house with only drafts of wind for company and a bitter feeling in her mouth.

In order to have something to do, Northernlights went back outside. Transformers had shifted into their alt-mode and were rolling out, loaded with supplies to help the bots in distress. At least, her family was alive. She then glimpsed an older bot checking on the little medicine available in the town and pushing it into a jeep. He was called Ochreiron and was nicer to her than most other bots. Perhaps he could give her some information.  
“Ochreiron!”  
“Northernlights! I haven’t seen you in a while!”  
“Here, let me help you.”  
At least she could grab the lighter boxes of syringes, tubes and packs of fluids to set on the jeep once the older russet bot had helpfully placed her there.  
“Do you know what happened?”  
“They dug too deep and too far under the forest. A few weeks ago a gigantic seam of energon was hit while digging for nickel. Very high-grade too. It was just unbelievable. To extract it fully, more miners were brought in from other systems and the work was intensified as never before. I guess they dug way too fast and way too deep. Not enough security measures. Authorities wanted to catch in the credits that were going to flow like never before. There was a huge cave-in and fires started everywhere. No way of knowing how many poor fraggers are caught down there or dead… Your family’s okay?”  
Northernlights nodded.  
“Yeah, I thought I saw your brother running out of the house. I need to go too.”  
Here was her chance.  
“I’ll come with you!”  
But Ochreiron shook his head.  
“No can do. The jeep is full as it is. The seats are even full of medical supplies and that’s the most important and I’ll have some on my knees. Just stay here. What would you do? Your size would get you knocked around and hurt. I’m sorry.”  
“Are we rolling or what?” yelled the jeeop.  
“Yes, we’re off,” said Ochreiron. Then he turned to her and said more gently: “Go back home, little one.”  
And with that, he left.

Northernlights decided to do exactly as she was told. She went back home. Except her home was the forest. At least she was obeying Ochreiron, in a sense. She wasn’t so useless that she could not obey. Well, more or less.  
On the way, she felt distressed. Bots were dying and no one thought she could do anything in spite of her will to help. Handsomesun’s words had stung her deeply and very harshly. Her brother had been mean, no question about it but she feared that he was right, that she was indeed useless. After all, everyone said it or acted like it.

Northernlights remained in her den. She knew nothing harmful had beset her family. Hansdomesun would tell the rest that she was alive and well if ever they doubted such a thing. If ever they cared.  
Yet when she observed the location of the mines from the highest branches she could reach, the fires kept burning, their glow illuminating the night, extinguishing the stars and even making the sun pale when it rose in the skies. An eerie and atrociously beautiful sight. The horrible black smoke continued to rise, making her think of a volcano she had seen in a datapad with pictures. And ultimately, the smoke reached her as she foraged near her den. A smell that assaulted her faceplates and sense of smell. It was incredible acrid and she thought she would empty her own fuel in disgust. Sometimes little flakes of black ash would descend and they also stank of charred materials. They rank of burnt metal. Luckily, the fire did not spread outwards of the mine and smoking cave-in. Northernlights then decided it was safe to forage further away. Even if fruits grew all year long, it was good to have some stacked away just to be sure. She carried the tail and sting of a manta-ray as a weapon just in case. There were no real predators but she worried more about bots rather than any sort of animal. 

After a long while, as the solar cycle slowly concluded itself, she had found good potential sources of legumes and roots with decent energon to eat. Happy with herself, she was about to go back to the den and hummed to herself. That was when she heard it.  
“Help… Anyone…”  
She turned on herself and seized her makeshift weapon.  
“Is anyone here?”  
She was sure she had heard something.  
“Please…”  
“I’m warning you, I am armed!”  
“Here… Help…”  
Cautiously, Northernlights followed the strained sounds, ready to bolt and stab at anybot attempting to harm her. She tread silently, wary of any sound. And she saw him.  
It was a wounded bot. A mech that was very big for a normal bot but even more so for her. He was silvery grey with red eyes, lying on his side with energon fluid leaking from many wounds, barely able to prop himself up. She had never seen him before and he was a miner, indicated by the yellow and black stripes he wore on his armor. A survivor of the mining accident. How come he was so far from the mines? This did not make any sense. She approached very carefully and the silver bot managed to focus his stare on her fully.  
“Please… Thirsty…”  
“I’ll… I’ll get you energon. I will get help as well. It might take time but I promise…”  
“No!” he eructed, suddenly panicked. “I beg you. Just help. Your help.”  
Northernlight did not know what to do. Her first instinct was to warn an adult. But the silver miner did not want that. That was clear. It could not hurt to give him some energon now and deciding what to do later.  
She handed him her leather bottle and helped tipping it so he could sip at his own pace what he wanted. He seemed instantaneously better indeed.  
“Thank you so much, little one,” he said gratefully.  
Northernlights backed away and nodded, waiting quite apprehensively.  
“You helped me. But other bots must not know I am here.”  
“Why?”  
“I helped a friend and… Let us say I cannot go back right now.”  
He grimaced under the pain of his many cuts. His armor was grey and speckled in some parts because of the mud, soot and dirt.  
“You are bleeding, sir.”  
“Indeed.”  
“I think I can help with that.”  
“You are generous, little one,” he smiled.  
Northernlights looked at his wounds. They were mainly located upon his legs. He must have had a terrible time walking. He might have even dragged himself at a certain point.  
“Those need to be tended to,” she said.  
“First I need a place to hide.”  
“I have a place to hide. It is my den.”  
“Really?”  
“There is a larger cave at the back of it. You should be able to slip in it.”  
“Good, we can go there. But I’ll require assistance.”  
“All right. I will try.”  
“Thank you, little one.”  
“I know I am little,” she said matter-of-factly.  
“Too true, I am sure. So what is your name?”  
“Northernlights.”  
“Quite exotic a name for someone living upon a tropical planet. My name is Megatron.”


	4. Sparkling or Caretaker?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northernlights sets herself to prove her worth and attempt to help a possible friend in spite of her fears. After all, the roles of sparkling or caretaker can be interchangeable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers does not belong to me. I hope readers will enjoy the story, though.

The trek back to the den was arduous to say the least. Northernlights felt inadequate at the best of times and in spite of all her good will, her frame was just to slight to provide a good support for the wounded miner. The best she could do was to clear the way for him if she could and to push him along., as well as maintaining his legs in a more comfortable position, one at a time. Frequent stops had to quickly become a necessity, allowing the scrawny femme to gather more energon to give slowly to Megatron and to scout ahead so as to find out an easier route for the impressive mech.

By the time they both reached her den, Megatron had not uttered a word for a long time and night had fallen for hours. Indeed, sunrise would not be long in the coming. Megatron had to enter the cave on all fours but when he reached the bigger space underneath the first gallery and slumped there, he barely stirred from his position lying down.  
“Good sparkling… I just need rest now…”  
“I understand,” whispered Northernlights. “I will… I will try to find some medicine.”  
But she spoke for nothing for the silver bot was already breathing deeply and regularly, his body wasting no time to fall into recharge.

Exhausted, Northernlights hoisted herself up and started at the entrance of her den. Her life had completely changed in not even a day. She had met someone novice. She could not help the bot much but he had thanked her. He had been grateful. She felt useful and wanted. It left her with a nice glow to her heart.  
But more serious matters quickly erupted in her mind. Megatron needed medicine. She had none. She had to find some. And the only place to do so was Tontuta. There was no other solution. The mines were much further away. She was extremely tired but she could not leave Megatron to be the prey of infection and loss of transfluids. She steeled herself and ran towards the town. She realized she would have to steal medicine, assuming she even found what she was in need of. She hadn’t returned to Tontuta since the mine had collapsed upon itself and had no idea what awaited her there or the state it was in. Yet she had to try and prayed Primus for his help and forgiveness but deep down she had no doubt that she would have prayed to the evil Unicron if that promised to be a help in her endeavor. After struggling a little across gigantic fern trees, she offered such prayer to the evil entity. She reasoned she might as well be on the good sides of both forces to increase her chances of success. The sparkling then reflected and added all the other bot gods in seeking their assistance. Like that, no one would accuse her of not pulling at every string possible.

The town was still quiet. She had arrived right before sunrise and the inhabitants would not be long in stirring awake. She had to be quick and quiet. She crept in the shadows, optics wide for what might help. Anything, really. She had to be a shadow herself, unnoticeable and silent. And for the first time, she was happy of her size. She could crawl and creep without being noticed.   
Unfortunately, if the streets surrounded by mostly rickety and shanty-like dwellings, few being made out of concrete like her own family home, were empty, so they were devoid of vehicles or crates that she could pilfer from. She then thought of the tiny infirmary in the eastern part of the town. She could go there and if there was nothing of value, she would rummage in her own former home, hoping not to wake anyone. It would be better than getting caught stealing from a random stranger’s shack.   
As soon as she reached the infirmary, she was welcome by dozens of piles of boxes stacked on the dirt road next to it. She was so happy and thankful to Primus and the rest of the gods that she saw the changes to the place only shortly afterwards. Firstly, a tar road had been added, probably to ease the transportation of so many supplies. Then next to the infirmary more streets had propped up. In haste, obviously, for they did not smell good because of piles of refuse surrounding the miserable shanties consisting these new additions. Northernlights could hear snores, coughs and grunts coming from inside the fragile shacks. The wounded miners had to be put somewhere, she figured. But the thought of her new friend forced to sleep in such cramped, insalubrious and deteriorated conditions revolted her. But to have him avoid this lodging and awful care situations, she had to act fast and turned to the piles of boxes.

Even though there was a little light shining inside the infirmary, Northernlights crept with ease below the window and silently inspecting the writing describing the contents of each. And all fours, she felt like a quiet little lizard and very brave indeed. One pile contained bandages and others held ampoules of disinfectants and other salves to avoid the loss of energon fluids and to clean up a bot’s inside cables. She opened the boxes carefully and slowly using her manta-ray knife. It was a hard task because her impatience told her to rip everything open, seize what she could and run as fast as the wind. But the night was completely silent and she was too afraid of alerting someone to her presence. Already she felt her spark and electricity in her frame were making more noise than usual and that their sounds were deafening and sure to attract attention. She filled her shoulder bag with as many items as possible and carried others in her arms. She was overjoyed to stumble upon a pile of blankets and retrieved one. Indeed, she used it as a bag to fill it with as many items her back could bear, including packs of powdered energon also filled with basic nutritional additives which were very light to carry. She was happy with her idea. Everything she could retrieve counted. She replaced the lids carefully. Of course the fact that they had been opened and partially emptied would be noticed but she hoped that she’d be very far away by then. And perhaps with all the agitation, medics would notice the pilfered boxes but not notice too much because of all the matters that were so much more urgent. And even then, no one could trace it back to her. The new tar road did not leave the tracks of pedes to see and the area around the infirmary had been so stomped that the grass was dying. No one could make out any specific pedeprints in such dry dirt. As soon as she reached the cover of the trees, she stopped jumping from shadowed corner to shadowed corner and looking in all directions. Northernlights ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. No one had called out. No one appeared to have seen her. No sounds indicated anybot was following her. When the first beams of the sun hit the trees, turning all the leaves into a vibrant emerald color, the last remnants of guilt over having stolen things that did not belong to her were erased by the anticipation of seeing her friend again. She did feel a pang of conscience at the thought that what she had grabbed out of the boxes might be missed by another wounded bot and that he might die as a consequence, all because of her, but she convinced herself that these medical supplies were not meant for her, these were destined for another wounded bot that also had great need of it and that she knew in person. However weak Megatron was, he had spoken a little to her and he was no complete stranger anymore.  
Upon stepping into her den, Northernlights placed the stolen supplies on the ground had let herself slump to the ground. She couldn’t believe she had done it. She had stolen things like a common thief to then creep back to her den, all for a mech that had befriended her. She thought she would let her eyes rest, just a little bit and then check on Megatron. He was probably sleeping still. And before she knew it, Northernlights was doing exactly the same.

By the time she stirred and rose from the hard ground where she had lied down upon, groaning in discomfort as she felt her muscles and cables move painfully in her frame, the sun was a brilliant orb of a stunning red in color going below the horizon to bless others with its warmth. The skinny femme felt a little better even though she did not believe she had regained any sort of strength. Quite the opposite, she was ready for another long nap and recharge. But she could not. She had to check on Megatron. It would be terrible and spark-breaking if she had done so much to then see the mech she had strived to see healed simply go into deactivation because she had slept after such a long night. Northernlights suddenly felt horribly guilty. She should not have fallen asleep like that!

She rushed to the back of the cave and leaned towards the rocky shelf, her spark hammering into her frame. She called out to the mech but already she was reassured by the regular breathing she heard right beneath her.  
“Mister the Miner? Megatron? Sir?”  
Part of her mind did tell her that she did not know exactly what proper name she should call him with. He was a lot older and more imposing than her, after all.  
The breathing continued and she went down the shelf, using stones as a way of makeshift stairs. Her small lamp would suffice, especially as she rarely used it. She inspected his wounds. Some had continued leaking and she was glad the bandages were just above them. She doubted the blanket would cover him fully but it would be better than nothing. As she was staring at him, he jolted awake and gazed at her. Startled, she backed away a few feet.  
“Mister Megatron?… I mean… Sir?… I did not mean to wake you up, Mister the Miner…” she stammered.  
He raised his optics at her, intrigued and amused, a little smile curling his lips.  
“I managed to acquire some supplies from Tontuta. I’ll show you. And a blanket. I got a blanket.”  
He smiled in earnest at her.  
“Wonderful. Primus must have sent you. Please show me.”  
Northernlights left the lamp on the ground and scrambled back to the upper story of the cave.  
“You can just call me Megatron, little one. I am flattered by the titles of respect but I’d rather you call me simply by my name.”  
“If that’s what you want, Mister Megatron,” she called back.   
She heard a chuckle from the silver mech.

The wounded miner still had problems moving himself but he was overjoyed to see the supplies. He asked her to pour oil and apply salves upon his cuts and instructed her on how to wrap the bandages.   
“I would prefer to wash your wounds a little bit. In a few days when we’ll change these, I will do that. A good hygiene, that’s important. But now we just have to deal with the most urgent.”  
Megatron just sighed in relief and nodded. He was definitely more relaxed. After bandaging his wounds and ignoring the strong smell of disinfectant, Northernlights got up upon her pedes.  
“I laid my hands upon some packets of food. But it’s powdered. I’ll go stir some liquid energon into it. I’m tired and if I rest, I won’t get up for a long time. If you want to eat, it has to be now.”  
“Please. Yes.”  
Northernlights hoisted herself upon the shelf, his softly spoken words ringing in her audios. They spurred her into grabbing a bowl and going to the small stream to patiently wait for the bowl to gather enough liquid. 

When she returned, Megatron stirred awake again from his slumber. In the flickering flame of the little lamp, he watched her add the energon powder to the bowl, using a clean polished stick to create a homogeneous broth. The shadows danced around her frame and she then handed him the nutritious beverage. The silver mech reached out to it but his servo shook quite a bit. He sighed but pretending she had not noticed, she tilted the bowl towards his mouth. He gulped slowly. It took time so she was forced to let her arm muscles rest. The position of her arms and frame was not comfortable or even practical.  
“Climb atop my chassis, little one. It will be easier.”  
She did as she was told, crouching upon the frame of the large mech. It was most strange and she tensed up out of uneasiness. This time, it was Megatron that pretended not to notice. Yet he still could not stop himself.  
“What are you thinking?”  
Why should she lie?  
“I think that it is as if I had my own sparkling. But what carrier would have to perch upon his own little one’s chassis to feed him?”  
Megatron chuckled good-heartedly at this.  
Northernlight then presented him with dried strips of energon fruits and the blanket. She had been correct. The thing barely covered his chassis and half his legs. But it would have to do. She told him the strips were hard to chew but were food nonetheless. The skinny sparkling then sat down, put her arms upon her knees and stopped moving, looking a little at the silver-grey mech. Without realizing it, she soon was curled upon the ground sleeping soundly, still in the halo of the flickering light projecting eerie shadows and under the watchful and pensive watch of Megatron.


	5. Underground Tutoring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron and Northernlights start establishing a sound dynamic between each other. Cuteness ensues, along with fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers does not belong to me. Enjoy the chapter!

Megatron slept two days. This left Northernlights a chance to gather her strength back, as well as preparing for more nursing back the silver mech to health. Wary of any noise, due to her fear of retaliation for her stealing, the hours brought no angry bot bent on punishing her and she gradually relaxed. She gathered more plant foods and fresh water, aware that energon fruits offered little nourishment for a lot of chewing or cooking. But it was better than nothing. She also fished for another manta-ray so as to provide her friend with his own knife and weapon, in case the den was invaded while she was away. She was indeed like a carrier or sire caring for his young, just like she saw the organic birds do with their chicks. She smiled at the thought and giggled on her own. Megatron was indeed as helpless as a little baby animal in his present state but she could not escape the thought that the size difference made the situation incredibly amusing. Her faceplate lightened up even more at the notion of feeding her friend like the birds, while he peeped and clicked for food and she gave it to him, rushing back out of the cave to gather more all solar cycle long. The difference in built would mean she’d have to spend all her time offering food to such a sparkling. And then the idea of regurgitating food like the parent birds straight into Megatron’s mouth made her laugh openly and bring a grimace of disgust simultaneously. That was more laughing than she had done in a long time.

Back at the den, Northernlights set bowls of energon next to Megatron and delicately wash the wounds a little. They were slowly healing and none had gotten any worse. That was good and after just watching over him for a while, her knife at her side and feeling as fierce as a Predacon carrier, letting her glow with pride in her spark, she decided to look through the beach in search of pretty shells and interesting things the ocean might have washed away. It was her favorite activity and she had had deserved to indulge in it even more than before. Furthermore, the smell of the sea was a lot more pleasant than that of the forest lately. At times the smell of burnt iron, earth and oil still reached the den, indicating the site of the mine was still smoldering. This was proven by the smoke still rising in the distance even though the flames had at long last subsided, just as the harsh sounds of sirens and constant rumblings of vehicles. Breathing was better thanks to the sea breeze. Walking in the sand always brought solace to her heart, as well as looking at all the little treasures in the form of shells, coral bones and mollusk shells that could be contemplated and gathered, then brought back to the den. Each time could bring a nice surprise. Those were the moments in which Northernlights wondered why so many other bots wanted to leave Numeea. She didn’t mind the sand under her pedes and feeling the ocean winds that made flutter her white cables as well as the smells of the flowers and of the forest, mingled with the salty taste of the ocean. Sure, they could use more infrastructure and most of all more datapads but she could not see herself living anywhere else. Cybertron would never have beaches as magnificent as those of Numeea and the sun would never make her energon fluid feel like molten gold in her frame like it did here. There would never be gigantic ferns and trees to climb or the same stars to observe. No five moons and myriad of constellations to gaze upon dreamily. All young bots wished to was to leave the planet to go back to Cybertron and Northernlights never managed to understand why. For bars? Parties? Meet more people? She could comprehend the easier access to datapads and perhaps meeting other bots but not the rest. Of course, life was not easy on Numeea but she had the feeling that the other colonies and the main planet were not the awesome places promised either. If it was the case, Numeea would have been abandoned a long time ago and her parents would have found a way to get away. However, she now had Megatron to ask these questions. He had traveled a lot and been to countless planets. He could teach her what was out there and was real or just imagined.

After a few hours, she had captured a manta-ray and extracted the sting. She felt bad for killing the fish but she needed it to five her new friend something to defend himself with. His frame was impressive already and she had no doubt he could be a fierce and skilled combatant but one more mean to fight back if needed never hurt. She felt better if he had something to hold his own if the den was invaded and he was found. She smiled again. She was acting as a protective carrier again, giving her offspring something in case things went bad while she was away. The irony being that if indeed she returned to see the den had been attacked, her coming would not be a threat at all. No striking fear in the sparks of the intruders by the arrival of an angry carrier ready to make the intruders pay dearly. Here, it was the offspring that was the most dangerous. She smiled again very widely at that. But if ever she was to come back and see her friend captured, she would not hesitate in tracking the bad guys and see what had become of her friend, even if the mission was doomed to failure. That would friends would do and she would know what had befallen her dear friend.  
Suddenly, a piece of coral struck her optic. It was rather small but also speckled with purple along with its pure white color. She recognized for what it was. A bone from a phosphorescent coral. They could be seen along the coast underwater, next to the coral reefs. They glowed in the dark, when night had fallen on the waters. It made for an enchanting spectacle and one of the most beautiful she could think of. It felt she was in another world with no feelings of rejection, no problematic programming and no sense of being constantly out of place. The glowing corals were green, violet, orange, blue and red. Next to it was the bone of red phosphorescent coral, one of the rarest. Even normal coral bones with their intricate calcium patterns that never ceased to amaze her could not rival with the beautiful glowing corals’ remains when she could scavenge them. And she had found two magnificent pieces in a single trip! One violet and another bright red. Northernlights was immediate in considering it a sign. Primus had finally answered her prayers! The violet was the same color as her eyes and Megatron’s eyes were red. This meant without a doubt she had acted in the right way! She quickly picked them up, a sense of confidence in the future that she had rarely felt in her life giving her the will to push forward. In delight, she turned upon herself to feel the soft sand under her pedes and the waves delicately licking her pedes. She ended by throwing herself in the waves, the sensation of weightlessness reminding her of floating and flying. Or at least, that was how she imagined it.

Megatron stirred in his sleep. He was scowling and frowning. A bad dream. A most unpleasant one. He was hurt. He had lost an older friend in the mines and was worried about his current friend, Impactor. He could see again the panic, the fear, the pain of the accident. The fire spreading. The stampedes. The lack of compassion. The sheer movements to survive that left the weakest stranded and doomed to die. The terror of looming and inescapable death. The pleas for help that could not be answered. The impossibility to help anyone except perhaps one dear friend. The unforgiving heat. The forest that seemed to want to kill him even more slowly than the mining accident. Impactor wounded. He had to leave him behind. At least he was taken in charge. Too many others were not as lucky. He had left Impactor to receive the first aid he crucially needed and had managed to escape in the jungle. He hoped to reach another town and get hired there, to go in hiding until he could make more credits to get himself out of the mining industry but receiving decent pay for it. At least Impactor and him would not be ruthlessly exploited at almost the level of slavery. He would come back for Impactor later. Hopefully the medics would replace his drill holding as his hand quickly. He was strong enough to deserve such an investment. He could still work most efficiently. But this planet was even wilder than he had expected. There was no town to be easily reached, not even a village. He had underestimated everything: his strength, his injuries and the trek in a rainforest with no roads of any kind. He really had thought this was it. He really had assumed it would be the end. But Impactor. He had to find him again. How far were settlements between each other in this Primus-forsaken humid planet? Just a few of their miserable shacks would do. Impactor. Was he still alive? He could not abandon him. He maybe thought him dead. Was he still alive himself? In pain, certainly. What did the medics do?...

Megatron jolted out of his nightmares, not knowing where he was for a split second. Then he remembered. The tiny sparkling. Northernlights. Last he remembered she had gone offline in a corner of the cave, curled upon herself next to the flickering lights. He had wondered what she was doing on her own and who she was exactly. She did not seem to mind living in the jungle, amazingly. Now she was nowhere to be seen. He groaned, still feeling incredibly tired. He noticed bowls of energon next to him and sipped out of one. Yet even that simple action exhausted him. He rolled over and resumed his sleep. Someone was looking after him and he doubted she’d betray him. She seemed much too innocent for that. Depending on such a strange femme made him uneasy but he was past the point of really caring.

When Megatron was online again, he felt much better. He noticed some bandages had been washed and replaced. He moved slowly and groaned at the residual pain. As if on cue, he heard soft pedes descending to his level of the cave, followed by curious optics and a petite figure.  
“You’re awake…”  
“How long have I been resting?”  
“Two days, Mister Megatron.”  
“Just Megatron, little one.”  
“It’s hard to just call you like that, sir.”  
“Take your time then. But at least try.”  
“Are you hungry?”  
“Yes. Could you help me with the bowls?”  
“Of course.”  
She delicately held the recipients so that the silver mech could more easily drink from the thick energon paste or broth.  
“Thank you for all your help.”  
Northernlights didn’t know how to answer and merely cast her optics down.  
“Have you any news from the mine?”  
“The horrible smells still poison the forest at times. And I’ve often climbed up the trees to look at the mines. The fires are finally gone but the smoke is still present. It’s disgusting,” she said with a grimace.  
“Are there any other town except the one nearby? The one you got supplies from. Your hometown…”  
“Tontuta? No. There are more towns but they are very far away and the roads are treacherous, from what people say. Only planes can go there without troubles.”  
He sighed. “Of course.”  
“You look sad”, the sparkling said. “Why?”  
“I was hoping to… I mean to help a friend of mine. But this planet is not practical enough. We would have needed more extensive cities. Like on other planets.”  
“Other planets? Have you travelled a lot?” she asked, optics shinning wildly.

The lessons had started thus. Megatron told the excited and knowledge-hungry sparkling of the planets he had been sent to. The mountainous ones, the deserted moons, the arid ones with only sand and no seas, the dangerous worlds and of course Cybertron. Northernlights was amazed at the descriptions of immense cities and of buildings reaching as high as the sky. The datapads to be found were so numerous it made her want to hear evermore. She was even more amazed when Megatron told her he was a writer himself, composing poetry and having read a lot of stories. And Northernlights never tired of stories.  
“Once you feel better, you can go out and I will show you the forest.”  
“That is kind of you.”  
“Here. This is for you.”  
She took the sting-ray knife and gave it to him. He looked at it curiously at first.  
“It is a weapon. In case somebot comes around with no invitation. Like that, you can defend yourself.”  
Megatron then reached out and delicately grabbed the makeshift weapon. In his hands it looked inoffensive and a bit ridiculous. This made Northernlights extremely uneasy. It had seemed like a good idea at first. But Megatron did not show any sign of mockery or contempt.  
“It is thoughtful of you, little one. I will use it wisely if indeed unwanted bots invade your abode.”  
Northernlights smiled in earnest. This was a good start. She could now give her most sentimental present, even if she was frightened.   
“Well… I have something else for you… I like to walk on the shores… And, well… I found this…” she stammered, her optics looking away in her timidity. But she found a kernel of resolve and handed him the red coral.  
“They shine at night. I will take you to see these corals when you’ll feel better. The red ones are rare and when I found this one on the sand, I thought… I thought of your eyes...”   
Megatron eyed the piece of red coral and bowed his head.  
“You honor me with your value and your gift. I will keep this preciously. I am lucky to have received such things of beauty.”  
And he placed the small reddish bone in a little cache of his armor.  
“There. Now, wherever I go, it goes too,” he said, lightly patting his armor.  
“For my part, I am honored that you like my gifts.”  
“Who would not?” he asked, raising an optic.  
“Well, my parents have tired of my bringing back things I found in the jungles or on the beach at home a long time ago and others mock me for putting what they call trash or uninteresting things in my hab.”  
This had lead to talking about her family and her siblings as well as why she lived all alone in a rainforest. Megatron listened patiently and even if he understood her parent’s dilemma, he still thought both mechs had gone about it the wrong way. He felt compelled to reassure her.  
“Do not worry. I will teach you things.”  
“Really?” she asked, her entire faceplate shining.  
“Yes. No one wishing to learn should be deprived of an instruction.”  
“When do we start?” she exclaimed.

As Megatron recovered, Northernlights spent more time in the lower part of her den that she had ever thought possible. Megatron taught her about history, legends and literature as well as reciting the poetry he had himself written up. He never said her questions were stupid. He was kind. He tried to teach her back the lessons she had had in geology, mining and physics but he quickly realized her limitations. He decided to keep it to a minimum and focused on other subjects. Northernlights made no secret she was hardly interested and he preferred to keep her happy with the subjects she did enjoy. And when she wanted stories, real or legendary or imaginary, she became as excited as a little sparkling demanding energon sweets. To better spend the time, Northernlights had installed herself another smaller berth with feathers in the lower cave and piled feathers under Megartron so he would be more comfortable, even though she knew it would take years to gather enough feathers to make the big mech a decent mattress. 

Yet one day, as Megatron was soon to finally go outside, the worst had almost happened. As they were talking about poetry, Northernlights claiming Megatron would find plenty of inspiration in the wonderful beauty and astonishing glory of the sea and plants, they heard voices from outside. Wasting no time, Northernlights turned off the lamp and rushed back outside, whispering that usually no bot ever came out this far into the jungle. Megatron covered himself with the blanket as best he could and crouched as much as possible in a corner. As she saw the light of the surface, no bot was in sight yet. Good. She could hear them though. She pretended to tend a small fire and to take care of dried fruits. Sure enough, when two large bots came into view, it appeared she had been there for hours. They looked surprised when they saw her. They looked tired and grouchy, clearly not in the jungle out of their own will.  
“Who’re you?” one, red and black, grumbled.  
“Northernlights. That is my name,” she answered slowly and simply.  
“What’re you doing here?” the other, a maroon mech, asked.  
“I live here,” she said in a little monotone voice.  
“Oh,” the red and black one said with contempt. “I remember now. The retarded kid of Imposor. The little retard. I’m surprised she’s still alive.”   
“You seen any miners ‘round here?”  
“The mines are there, I think.” Northernlights pointed to the general direction of the mines through the trees. “There are miners there.”  
“No, have you seen miners here?”   
“No, because the mines are far away.”  
The maroon bot sighed heavily and expanded on the matter.  
“There’s been an accident and some miners might have managed to walk and escape in the forest. Have you seen any miners or bot? Alive or deactivated?”  
“No. No bot comes here. I never see any. But I am certain you can ask at the mines. They have miners there, lots of them. Or in Tontuta. There are miners there and you can find plenty of them in all conditions. There you will find what you want.”  
The blow was too fast for Northernlights to evade it. She was struck harshly on the face and fell to the ground. She could not help it and started crying. Burying her last remnants of dignity, she started bawling loudly. Hopefully the noise would get the two mean bots out of here the faster.  
“Fragging retard! Slag!!! Retarded glitch!” screamed the red and black one.  
The other sighed:  
“Come on, no point wasting your time with her. Let’s walk a bit and quit. There’s nothing here. I just want to get a glass of cool energon at the bar and call it a day.”  
The two bots left, one sighing, the other complaining loudly that this planet was only good for sparklings that had been programmed with too much waste transfluids and that he understood why Imposor left his little retard rot there. Northernlights continued sniffling and crying, partly trying to convince herself it was just pretend in case the two mean bots came back around but the huge slap had really hurt, after all. To be sure, she waited a long time and as the sun set, she climbed down the stairs.  
“Megatron. I think they have definitely gone.”  
The miner mech removed his blanket and looked at her as she turned on the little lamp.  
“Are you all right?”  
“Yes,” she said as she turned her helm away purposefully. She did not wish for him to see the possible mark on her face.  
“That was very brave of you. And intelligent. They are the morons, not you.”  
“You heard them?”  
He sighed heavily.  
“Every word. I am sorry.”  
“It’s nothing. I’m used to it. I don’t care anymore.”  
“Nevertheless. I know you hurt in more place than one.”  
And with that he rose his frame and grabbed her under the arms, placing her against his chassis. She could feel his spark, warm and comforting. It had been such a long time she had not been hugged and cuddled. She started crying again.  
“A lot of bots make stupid assumptions. They think because I am a lowly miner I cannot possess intelligence or even have feelings. It’s the same for you. I know you are very smart in certain ways, like everyone else and you a lot more than others.”  
He continued reassuring her while making shushing noises for a long time. She then managed to utter a few words.  
“I hope the operation will work, even if I am scared and really don’t want to do it.”  
Megatron stopped his cradling abruptly and froze. Northernlights noticed his spark missing a pulse. His voice became strained to the extreme.  
“What operation?”  
Northernlights gave him as much details as she could. Megatron then grabbed her face and looked at her straight in the optics.  
“Never, you hear me, never go through with that sort of operation. The doctors lied to your sire and carrier. It is a horrible procedure and you will become a mindless drone. I’ve heard of others that had this happen to them. It never ended well. If anyone comes to get you for it, run. Flee. Escape as fast as you can. Your spark and life depend on it.”  
“But, my problems…”  
“They are not problems to merit such horrible things. Your cog might just be slow in developing. And maybe your development is a bit different, or slower. I’m sure you are not the only one. But research is needed to be sure. Operating a sparkling is a stupid thing. You have lots of time to reach maturity. I have seen that you are intelligent, just not in the usual way the bots here understand. On Cybertron, you would have opportunities. You are different, not a defect. Don’t let anyone ask you to think otherwise.”  
Northernlight nodded.  
“But promise me. Promise me if the doctors come to get you, run. Don’t let them catch you. Run in the deepest part of the forest. Promise me.”  
“I… I promise.”  
“Good. Always remember that,” Megtraon said with relief as he clutched her tighter as if the doctors were going to snatch her from him any moment. And yet for all her fright and things to fear, she felt strangely safe.


	6. The Feel of Summer Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron and Northernlights continue living at there own rythm in the jungle of Numeea, their unusual bond of friendship strengthening, until Megatron has to come to a harsh decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Transformers. This chapter contains additional fluff and cuteness. And some angst too. If you have constructive comments or requests, feel free to write them.

“No! No! I’m scared! I’m scared!”  
“So you want me to stop?”  
“Of course not! Please! More! Continue!”  
Megatron laughed and continued tossing Northernlights high into air to catch her back and toss her again. The sparkling screamed in fright once airborne but these changed into sounds of excitement once back into his servos.  
“I love it!”   
“I’ll try not to hit the branches with you.”  
“I don’t care! Again!”

Since Megatron had felt well enough to step outside, they had spent their days in blissful leisure time. Megatron taught Northernlights in the mornings and in the afternoons Northernlights went to show him the secrets of the jungle. She held no small amount of pride when she introduced him to the shores near the coral reefs, to the phosphorescent corals one dark night and to the many beautiful plants and orchids the forest held as well as its few animals. At night, he held her in his arms or upon his shoulders as they watched the stars together. Northernlights had used vines to make herself a swing but Megatron built her a real one and pushed her as hard as he could, always asking her if she wanted to be thrown into orbit.   
But other activities were not to be done together or shared with even the best will in the world of Numeea. Megatron did not understand Northernlight’s taste for swimming and water and when she had splashed him with the water from the waves on purpose, he had snatched her by the arm and tossed her as far out as he could, watching in smug amused revenge as it took Northernlights quite a while to swim back upon the sand. Megatron did not understand the little femme’s hobby of collecting what the ocean gave upon the sand so he stayed under the shade of the tree cover and thought about his writings. He discussed his ideas and was happy when she recited his own creations, teaching her a little how to feel more confident. At night, she settled in her new berth contentedly, right next to Megatron’s frame, warm and snug. She never dreaded nightmares anymore. As far as Northernlights was concerned, this life could last eternally. She was happier than she had ever felt in her existence and really felt that Primus had heard her prayers at last.

While they were on the way back to the den, bags and arms loaded by energon fruits. The powdered energon packets had been consumed a while back already and Megatron required more nourishment than the scrawny femme could consume in weeks. The days before had brought quite a bit of rain, seeming to finally wash away definitely the foul smells from what had been the smoldering mines. Now the rays of sun passing through the clouds and through the foliage of the trees brought promises of cleaner times and of more fun days. But Megatron, although most unwillingly, had to bring a stop to that.  
“Northernlights…”  
“Yes? What is it?”  
“I have to tell you something,” he said, ill-at-ease.  
“What?” asked the sparkling, worried at his tone.  
“I will leave soon. I need to even though, believe me, I wish I could remain here.”  
“Why?”   
Northernlights was already in despair and frightened. This was not going to be easy. Not that Megatron ever assumed it would be in the first place.  
“I have my friend to look after. It cannot be pushed back anymore. You know, Impactor? I told you of him. I took advantage of the mining catastrophe to see if I could find us a safe place.”  
“You’ve found it, no? Here. At the den. You can bring your friend. It might get crowded but…”  
“No. My goal was to find a mining town where we could be more independent. I did not count on encountering so many difficulties. If I had not met you, I’d be scarp metal by now. It was important for me to go back and get him quickly after getting hired as fast as possible in a discreet mining site. It did not happen because of impossible distances in the jungle. Recuperating my strength took too long, through no fault of yours, mind you. I cannot leave him without news. I’ll need to go back to the mines or the little town and reintegrate the miners’ groups. I can probably mingle into a group and say the registering computers failed to record me, or claim I managed to survive in the forest on my own. With all that has happened, it should not ne too hard to believe.”  
“But ewe can make it work another way!” exclaimed Northernlights. “Let me go! I’ll find your friend and bring him to the den. Then you can travel to another town. I’ll come with you since I know how to live in the jungle.”  
“Northernlights,” said gently and calmly Megatron, as if he was explaining the concept of deactivation to a sparkling less than twice her age. “As much as you can fend for yourself, I doubt you’d be strong enough for hundreds of miles in the rainforest. And Impactor has only one working servo. The other is a drill.”  
“I don’t care! I’ll come with you and I’ll be his hand if need be!”  
“Well, I, for one, do care. And even though it is very generous and brave of you to commit yourself to such an endeavor, I refuse. I would not forgive myself if anything happened to you. Even both Impactor and I on our own would have too few chances of succeeding.”  
“But…”  
“I am sorry. I know what I have to do. And you cannot stop me. That’s final.”  
“Then we can travel to Tontuta and you can hide until early morning. You can slip in the different groups of miners.”  
“Sounds good.”  
“But I could find your friend for you and ask around.”  
“Out of the question! It would look too suspicious and other bots would wonder why you are looking for Impactor, especially as you’re not supposed to know any miners. Remember?”  
“Yes,” said Northernlights grudgingly.   
They walked in silence until Northernlights said softly:  
“I don’t like the idea of you going back to the mines. It’s too dangerous and you should be an author instead. You deserve better.”  
“I’ve often wondered about that. I’ve written about politics as well. I do believe that with the power of ideas, things can change.”  
“Really?”  
And with simple words, Megatron patiently explained to Northernlights what he meant and what were Cybertronian politics. At least, he thought, it took her mind off from his imminent departure.

That night, as the sun was about to show itself, the two were near the town of Tontuta. They had traveled almost all night, using conversation to stay awake. Not that Northernlights would have slept anyway. She was too distraught at the idea of losing her only friend.   
“Good,” whispered Megatron. “I’ll go around the town and enter in the opposite direction. Like that, you’ll be less suspected.”  
“I still don’t want you to leave.”  
“I know. But it can’t be helped.”  
“Will you come back?”  
“If I can, I promise, little one. I owe you too much,” he smiled.  
“You won’t forget me?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. How could I? And you know what?”  
“What?”  
“You’ve grown. I can’t notice in size but in temper, certainly. Keep it up. I’ll come back for you as soon as I can. I promise”  
He hugged her tightly and Northernlights squeezed back as hard as she could. When Megatron released her, he was dead serious, though.   
“Remember all I’ve taught you, but especially this. If the mind doctors come to you, just evade them, through any way possible. Do you understand? Promise.”  
“I promise.”  
“That’s crucial, all right? Now go. It won’t do to find you here next to me.”  
“Can’t I stay longer?”  
“No, or I’ll have to step into the town itself to get rid of you. I realize you mean well but you are just not helping.”  
“I love you. And I won’t ever forget you.”  
“Me too. Now go, if you really wish to help me. And don’t turn back. I know you, you’ll just stay and stare at me.”  
Tears in her optics, Northernlights turned around and left. She did not want her friend to get angry with her as a last farewell. So she ran back to her den, crying all the way and putting as much distance as she could between Megatron and her so as not to be tempted to rush back and cling to him, pleading for her to stay with him.


	7. Revenge, courtesy of Numeea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northernlights has to get used to resuming a life without Megatron in spite of the difficulties. Then she suddenly has to go on a rescue mission to save her friend, no matter her fears and the costs. More action starting from next chapter, I promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Transformers, I don't own the franchise, of course. This story is simply an homage to them, like many other great creative works.

Living without Megatron had been very hard at first. Northernlights was tempted constantly to rush back to Tontuta to ask for him or at least to see him. But that was out of the question. She feared his reaction if she did so. And he had warned her of the mind-doctors. She never wanted to see those two again if she could help it. If she needed something urgent, she’d slip into the city under the cover of night. And she hanged on to Megatron’s promise. After all, he had promised to come get her once he could get himself outside of the mines. The sooner the better, as far as she was concerned. He’d then come with his companion Impactor and she’d run as fast as her pedes could possibly carry her, with the biggest smile ever on her faceplate and jump into his arms screaming his name over and over again. And she would not let go of his frame for entire joors. Imagining their happy reunion certainly made things easier. And meanwhile, she would rehearse in her helm all the lessons he had taught her.  
In order to assuage her anguish at being deprived of her friend, she took even more frequent trips and scavenging parties on the beaches. And that is where he had met him. 

She knew at first glance that this mech could not be Megatron. He was much shorter and stockier and his frame was white and green. He looked surprise but happy to chance upon her. Northernlights tightened her servo upon her knife. If he had come to take her to the awful mind-medics, he had something coming up to him.  
“Hello, there.”  
She stopped in her tracks but eyed him with suspicion.  
“My name is Whiterock. And yours?”  
“I’m…” she hesitated. “I’m… Beachwalker.”  
Whiterock smiled as if he was no dupe but did not seem at all to care for the lie.  
“A fitting name. And most auspicious, it appears. You often come here to look at the shells?”  
“A little bit, yes. Sometimes.” That was the understatement of the vorn, she thought.  
“Then I have a proposition for you. I need help. And it could be very profitable for you.”  
“What is it?” she asked, intrigued. Certainly no adult bot would go through such a complex ruse just to grab her and give her to mind-medics.  
“I’m a scientist, you see. And I am looking for precious minerals. Of one type, precisely. I know there is a deposit deep under sea but it would be very hard to reach and Numeea is more concerned with energon and nickel for the time being. At least, its administration. I know that at times, some nuggets reach the surface and through the currents can get upon the shores. But looking for it takes time and I have my own research to deal with anyway. So if you find some, could you bring it to me? I’ll make it worth your time.”  
“If I chance upon any, yes. But what does this mineral look like?”  
“Here. See for yourself.”  
Whiterock handed her a peice of stone as black as obsidian with dark green spots upon it.  
“See? It’s very recognizable. It’s called Nicaldonium.”  
“I guess I can try. But if I find any, how will I contact you?”  
“Any place and time we could meet.”  
Northernlights thought for an instant.  
“Near the infirmary in Tontuta. At night and alone.”  
“Done, then. Just give me a click…”  
The scientist took out a little device with a big button upon it and gave it to her.   
“All right. Whenever you find some, just press three times on this button and we’ll meet at the infirmary in Tontuta, alone and at night.”  
Northernlights seized the object but had barely time to dwell upon it.  
“I’m happy to stop combing beaches and dealing with sand and salt. Thank you, sparkling.”  
He then changed into a helicopter and was off, as if he did not want to stay more than strictly necessary on the beach.

It had been months that Northernlights had met Whiterock and set preciously the device on the lower shelf of her den. She doubted she would make use of it. After all, she had scavenged the shores for vorns now and had never noticed this mineral. Or perhaps she had just missed it or just paid not enough attention. Beaches literally were the composition of Numeea.  
That night, a gigantic tropical storm had hit the large islands. Storms and rains had always been a normal fact of life but these tropical storms, thankfully rare, nonetheless were scary and never left anyone indifferent. Buildings could easily get flooded and the infrastructure destroyed. The great bursts of lightning just illuminated the destruction and fury of nature. The winds seemed dedicated to tearing up whatever bots had erected and the rain appeared to have the sole goals of cleaning the bots’ existence on the island. As if the island itself was furious at their presence, at the trees that were cut and the earth that have been disemboweled. No one would approach the beaches with its furious waves and no flying bot would take to the skies. The ones foolish or desperate enough had never been found or washed up on the beaches ripped asunder or smashed beyond the ground in what could only have been an agonizing end.  
Northernlights stayed huddled with Ocean in her cave, as deep as she could., with only the large blanket Megatron had left and the little flickering lamp to keep her company. The forest itself protected her. She knew she had nothing to fear in of itself. It just seemed the world was ending and that was enough to frighten her. She wished she was with other bots. Huddling in a storm always felt better and the comforting feeling oh her parents and carriers all upon the same berth, the sensation that nothing could harm any of them because her fathers were so strong and knowing was woefully only a distant memory. If only the tropical storm had hit when the miner was still with her… Where was he? Was he going to get her soon?  
“Megatron, please… Come and find me… I’m scared… Don’t leave me here alone…” she cried softly.

The next day, even though the sky was overcast, the winds had definitely died out. The storm had spent all its rage and gone elsewhere. There were puddles everywhere and some trees had fallen upon the ground but overall, the rainforest had resisted, as usual. Out of curiosity, Northernlights went to the shores.

As if to forgive itself for a night of terror, the planet had yielded treasures for Northernlights. The ocean waves had offered to the shores many shells and even dead giant sea creatures, surrounded by smaller ones as they were besiege by the raging gales. As Northernlights foraged under the low clouds, careful of any fish still alive and willing to snap at the intruder, not that it ever happened anyway, she found it under a pile of shells and fish remains. A nugget of Nicaldonium. Followed by a few more and one slice as big as her servo palm. The tempest must have dredged these up from the very depths of the ocean. Heart hammering, she swiftly put these in her leather shoulder bag and continued her frantic search. 

After a few solar cycles, her intensive search had turned out interesting bones, wonderful seashells and amazing coral bones, but no more than the five pieces of Nicaldonium. The sparkling know she had been very lucky already and after reflecting an entire night she pressed three times the device left by Whiterock. It flashed a brief hologram.

SUPERB! MEET ME TONIGHT.

The night had been long in coming and as Northernlights crouched near the infirmary, clutching the stones in her bag, she jumped at every sound. She had not come back to Tontuta or its infirmary since that fateful night when Megatron left and before that, it was to steal medical supplies. The temptation to go see her family, just to look at them offline on their berths, was constantly nagging at her. Just to look at them a bit. To make sure their frames stayed the same in her mind. To se if they had changed. How much had Handsomesun and Spacetraveller changed? Her little brother must have grown quite a bit. What had changed? Did they miss her, at least a little bit? What if she forgot them? Her brothers had stayed in her processor as they were last time she had laid optics on them. If she never saw them again, then she’d always think of them that way. As if time had stopped. It would be the same for her. However, she didn’t notice any growing up. The branches were still the same to reach and her size had not been receiving any spurt. Even Megatron had said so. If her family remembered her since the last time they saw each other, it would not make any difference. But perhaps in her mind, things were different. Perhaps now…  
“Hey.”  
A whisper made her jump. In the dark she saw Whiteriock and rose up from the dark that had engulfed and protected her.  
“You okay?”  
“Yes.”  
“Excellent. How many have you got?”  
“Five pieces. One is pretty large.”  
“Couldn’t ask for a better stroke of luck.”  
“I’ll give them to you. But at your place.”  
“Sounds fair. Follow me.”

They had walked a long time to his lab, a small dwelling that was more modern than anything surrounding it. The interior was filled with complex machinery and cables and screens upon every possible surface. Whiterock turned on a small lamp.  
“Show me your finds, Beachwalker.”   
She opened her bag and his optics stared in amazement.  
“Exciting. But you deserve a little reward for your troubles, no?”  
She merely nodded.  
“What do you want, kid? Energon candy? A cool toy from Cybertron? A brand-new video game?”  
Northernlights somehow had the distinctive feelings that her stones were worth incredibly more than what he had just enumerated.   
“No.”  
“What, then? You realize I don’t have all the stores of Iacon or Kaon right on hand.”  
“There is something that I want but it’s not a toy.”  
“Really? I’d have thought some of your toys would like some younger siblings or new friends,” he said with an exaggerated friendly and sugar-coated smile.  
Northernlights did wonder if he thought she was too young to comprehend things or too stupid to do so, both not being mutually exclusive, of course. And indeed, normally she would have asked for another plush toy but there was more urgent this scientist could help her with.  
“I want your help to find someone.”  
Whiterock sat down in a chair.  
“That can be arranged. But I’ll need a name.”  
“His name is Megatron and he is a miner. He’s got a close friend called Impactor. That’s all I know.”  
“Not much but I can hack into various systems to find him. I can try, at least. And if I find him?”  
“Then I want to know how he is doing and if he is in danger, I want to help him. I give you the stones and you send him credits if he needs it. But I want to see with my own optics how he is doing.”  
“For that, you’ll give me all the Nicaldonium?”  
“I swear it.”  
“All right.”

He had worked for two hours on the computers while giving a video game to Northernlights to wait. She was not sleepy, too nervous about what she was getting into and about how Megatron was doing. The video game was more interesting than most she had ever had the opportunity to play with, her character having to jump through levels bashing enemies, but she had other things in mind, never mind that video games weren’t her favorite pastime, really.  
“Found him.”  
She perked up, rushing to the screen. She would never confuse this faceplate with another, although his picture showed him a lot angrier and sterner than she had ever seen him in real life.  
“That’s him?”  
“Yes! He’s alive and well, I guess. But what does ‘scheduled operation’ there mean?”  
“That’s the bad news, kid. You friend is to receive a processor operation in a few hours’ time. They say he’s instable.”  
All the fluids froze in Norythernlights.  
“But that’s not possible! Megatron is too nice! It must be a mistake!”  
“Mmmmh… Not according to Froid, the top authority.”  
“Who? Show me his picture!”  
She had never forgotten the medic that had examined her long ago and what he planned on doing, as well as the utmost recommendation on the part of her silver friend. And now Megatron was about to receive the same fate!  
“We have to stop this horror! There must be a way!” she screamed.  
“I am sorry, but…”  
“You’re a scientist. You are able to hack into files. I saw you. Find a way or I’ll run and you’ll never find these stones again, I swear.”  
And to show she was serious, she took out her knife at her side. Whiterock looked most surprised but after a few kliks relented:  
“Okay, okay… Just calm down… You know what a space bridge is?”  
“Yes, but there aren’t any here. Or else everyone would leave the planet. And they’re too expensive to manufacture or buy anyway. Not enough credits for that around here. That’s what bots say, at least.”  
“I have a tiny one I made. It was to send the stones to a hidden bank vault on a safe-haven moon. You could slip there and I’ll retrieve you after you try to stop the operation if you’re that desperate or simply unconscious. How does that sound?”  
“I don’t have much of a choice,” she said slowly.  
Whiterock went around trying to set the small space bridge, all the while grouchily complaining about stupid little sparklings that acted up.  
“Who’s he anyway? Your sire? No, your carrier, I bet. Carrier-sparkling bond that is so strong nonsense and all that. Miss your carrier, kid?”  
“He’s not my carrier!” she spat. “I told you, he’s my friend!”  
“Right…” he chuckled. “If you say so…You probably look like your sire, then… Although how that big guy interfaced with the puny femme she must have been… I hope for her sake her frame was made out of steel and not crepe paper… If you’d had the built of your carrier, it would have killed the femme for sure…” he muttered and laughed openly.  
Annoyed to no end, Northernlights had nonetheless other matters to worry about. 

After almost another hour, though, the space bridge was ready. It could barely fit her if she slid across it.  
“It’s ready. You’ll end up in the mines where your friend or whatever is for ten minutes. Then you’ll be teleported back here. It’s the best I can do. Try to make the most of it because there won’t be a second try. I’ll send you right before the operation is scheduled in the room so you won’t waste precious time. You leave in three hours.”  
Northernlights just nodded. She could not turn back in spite of her immense apprehension. But turning back was never an option, she realized.

The space bridge crackled with electricity. And Northernlights was dead set. She had to do it, no matter the risks.   
“Wait.”  
“What?”she asked.  
“At least leave the stones here.  
“No, after I come back”  
“But… Why?”  
“To make sure you did your job well. But if you are as intelligent as you seem, then you will get the nicaldonium in barely fifteen kliks. You can wait a bit more.”  
And before Whiterock could answer, Northernlights slid in the portal, for once thankful of her petite frame.

She landed nimbly but staggered a little. She was in a mine for sure. Stone walls, mechanical noises and awful smells. And mechs working away so as to have one less day to live. But she was in no common gallery. It must have been what stood for the infirmary, barely less primitive than the one in Tontuta. But she had no time to dwell on the talks of the state-of-the-art clinics for the elite of Cybertron that she had heard of a few times from bitter bots. There were two bots on the other side of the room, one on a berth and the other so completely engrossed in his task that he had not noticed her. She recognized him immediately as well. Trepan. The bot that wanted to perform surgery on her processor and that was delighted by the prospect. The horrible surgeon. The scary surgeon. He was saying how Megatron was sick and that what he thought was bad. All the things he had taught her. He said that obeying and not thinking was good. Like what the revolting surgeon had told her and to her parents long ago. Trepan thought she was stupid and useless too. He was going to make Megatron stupid! Just like he wanted to do to her! She was going to stop him, she had to, or else she’d lose her silver friend forever!  
“Stop, you fragger!”  
He halted suddenly manipulating Megatron’s processor and turned around to face her. Northernlights had hurled the insult she had heard many times without really knowing its meaning, but it seemed to be appropriate.  
“Who are you?”  
“Stop reprogramming him or I will hurt you!”  
She showed him her manta-ray knife to prove she meant business.  
“What the Pit? Go away! What do you think you are…?”  
Clearly she had no time to talk to him. She had only ten minutes and no idea how many she had wasted already. Megatron was attached to the surgery berth, his helm opened and his limbs incapacitated by restraints. He saw her and tried to speak. She would have liked to know what he was trying to say but there was just no time. She threw herself at the taller Trepan. She could not kill him but she could injure him. He was a surgeon. Without his hands, he would not be able to harm Megatron, or others for that matter. She sliced the digits of his right hand with her knife, spurting energon fluid everywhere, including her and Megatron. Trepan screamed and fell to his knees, releasing Northernlights from his grip. The little femme stabbed and cut more of his hands for good measure.  
“There! That’ll teach you to be mean to others and to do a mean job! And leave my friend alone too!”  
She was certain more epic victory threats had been uttered in Cybertronian history but didn’t have time to think of something better. A phone was ringing, Trepan was yelling in pain and shouts of surprise were already erupting elsewhere. Northernlights made to free Megatron but she had barely time reach the restraints that a great mech was at the door.  
“What is going on here?”  
How much time did she have? How much of the element of surprise did she still possess? She ran between the legs of the gigantic mech, too astounded to stop her. She had to find a safe place for the next few minutes. She could not fight anyone. But what had her combat instructor said about her? Yes. Useless but if she could find a tree to climb, then she could wait. But no trees grew in mines. No, no trees. But scaffoldings, yes. She grabbed the first echelons of one and clung to it when she was out of reach of any bot. They had gathered underneath, wondering who she was and what she was doing there. A few ordered her to stay calm and to not move, that it was dangerous and that they would come and get her. One even extended his arms and told her to jump, that he would catch her. Northernlights felt strangely grateful but had no time to transmit her gratitude. Crackles of electricity finally surrounded her frame and she was back in the lab, shaking and exhausted.

Much later, Northernlight collapsed on the floor of her den. She had saved her friend. Whiterock had his stones and didn’t care about the rest, although he did seem disgusted by the energon fluids that she had brought back and let drip in his lab, yet proof of the success of her mission. He did tell her that there was a big problem in the mines of the planet Megatron was located in and that Megatron had been evacuated with the rest. But his mind was safe. That was the most important. And he had seen her. He had known she had been there for him. She had managed to have him avoid the fate he had warned her about. She had made Trepan pay. To think if she had gone to Whiterock a mere few hours later… What would have happened? She was terrorized just thinking about it. She thanked Primus from the depth of her spark and wrapped up in Megatron’s blanket. Never mind Whiterock’s ridiculous assumptions. Her frame shook from all the emotions she’d had to go through yet was content and at peace, allowing herself into recharge in the slight smell of Megatron imbued in the blanket. The nightmares would come, surely, but at least reality was a lot better than what it could have been. At least the nightmares were not real. Let them come. She had just faced a lot worse.


	8. The Arrival of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Civil War of Cybertron eventually reaches Numeea, with disastrous consequences to the feral sparkling. However, it also means a change in her life and the meeting of new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Transformers, of course. I just like writing for people to enjoy.
> 
> As promised, more action and characters in this chapter. The chapters about the times before the Civil War are over too.

Many, many years later. The Cybertronian Civil War is reaching a close as the Decepticons are winning. A few struggling pockets of Autobot resistance are nevertheless desperately holding on, trying to stave off the inevitable. 

Years upon years had passed. Numeea was a tropical planet, and furthermore living near its equator, the seasons remained the same. This made very difficult to keep track of time beyond simple solar cycles. Without adequate technology to count the vorns or will to scratch the passing of days, there was little difference with living in an eternal summer. This was infinitely less difficult for Northernlights. She had the impression of living in a warm and sweet paradise. That had never changed. Her collection of seashells and coral bones, as well as knick-knacks gathered from the white sand shores had grown exponentially. She had learned how to use leather and stone tools to fashion herself necklaces and body jewelry out of her favorite shells. This took time but her craft easily absorbed her. Through the vorns, she had never gone back to the town of Tontuta, apart a few times, at night, just to see if there had been any significant changes. None had occurred. The town abandoned houses and left them derelict only to build them anew if more laborers or miners settled, depending on the needs. No horrible catastrophe from the major mine had happened again. As she crept a little around Tontuta in the dead of night, Northernlights thought about her family, always tempted to just look at them as they recharged. But her fear was too great. Trepan had not recognized her that first time but if he saw her after her parents caught her and scheduled her for the operation, she doubted very much he’d be very kind to her. She hoped that he never performed on any bot ever again. But it was certain she’d be in more trouble than she’d ever been, and that was telling a lot.   
She had never found nicaldonium again and so never used the device given to her by Whiterock. That also meant she’d never had the opportunity to get news from Megatron. He never left her a message or anything. He never came for her. In her spark, she knew she’d wait but it hurt her feelings immensely. She often wondered where he was and feared the worst. A good reason for never coming back to her in spite of her promise would have been that he had deactivated, on way or the other. That thought never failed to make her cry. Yet she still hoped.   
Her helm cables had grown slowly, reaching the small of her back, but the remaining of her built had stayed the same. She was still as skinny as ever and still sort. The same branches were always as hard to reach as they had been. If she had grown, it would have been too little to even count. As for her alt-mode, it was still non-existent. The same claws sprouted upon her digits and her frame stretched, perhaps a bit more, as she wanted to believe, but no real change had occurred. She was still lost as to what her abilities were, if indeed she had any. The exotic paradise she lived in and its marvels could always be counted on to soothe her melancholic spark, though. She never ceased to believe she lived in the most beautiful part of the galaxy. This paradise was her home world and she knew she could not be happier anywhere else.   
And one night her paradise world burst into flames, destroyed.

The bombings woke her up, distant but still terrifying. She knew it was no thunder, no earthquake and no mining catastrophe. The lights of the fires were too near and the sounds of destructive machines came from the skies. Following her old reflexes, she climbed into a tree and stood awestruck in horror. Tontuta was being bombed by flyers and aircrafts. A few quite large but most small and fast, and above all deadly. Their high-pitched sounds and the noise of the bombs terrified her. Her first instinct was to check if her family was still alive but thought better of it. Approaching such a battle frightened her to no end and what could she do? What could she accomplish? Flames were already ravaging the town and the forest around it. There was nothing she could do. On the contrary, the bombings or their effects could very well reach her, and very soon. So she ran, far from her den and far from the destruction that she could not possibly comprehend.

She fled with all her strength towards the rising sun, stopping only to drink and rest, but jumping in fright at any sound and clambering upon her pedes to continue running. She did not know where she could flee to, as although big, she lived nonetheless upon an island and she’d reach the ocean sooner or later. But she didn’t really carte, as long as it was away from the war. Because it had been an attack, which meant a war had reached Numeea. The nature of the enemy nonetheless escaped her completely. Why had Tontuta been razed to the ground? What could possibly justify such a crazy act of destruction? Was it another town? Another planet? Cybertron? Bots that were just evil? She did not know.

Exhausted, she had fallen asleep near a stream, under a large tree fern, curled up on herself. So tired was she, she did not here the two bots approaching her, or feel their shadow above her. Only when she heard her voices did she open her optics, to back away and take out her knife.   
“Whoa! Calm down, here! We’re not here to hurt you!”  
“Yeah, we’re Autobots, not evil ‘Cons! See our insignas?”  
They were both mechs, one a dark yellow and the other light green. They were of course taller than her but did not seem aggressive. Northernlights was still wary, though.  
“Feisty little femme, eh?” the dark yellow said with a good-natured smile. “What’s your name, now?”  
“Be careful, Sunstampede. She could be a Decepticon spy.”  
“Ha! And since when do those creeps hire kids? Look at her, she’s clearly been on the run for a while.”  
“I can’t be a Decepticon spy,” said Northernlights hotly. “I don’t know what it is in the first place!”  
The two bots looked at her as if she had said she was a pebble and not a bot.  
“Seriously?” said the green mech.  
“Slag, I think she’s telling the truth.”  
After a few seconds of silence, the mech called Sunstampede reached his servo out to her.  
“Come with us. You must be hungry. And you can tell us a bit about yourself. Looks like you could use some help.”  
Her options being non-existent, Northernlights put her knife back on her side and approached the two bots. They did seem amiable enough.  
“I’m Spinwheels,” said the green one.  
“My name is Northernlights.”  
“Welcome to the Autobots, Northernlights, ” said Sunstampede, clapping her on the shoulder and almost making her stumble to the ground, making the yellow bot guffaw in good humor.

The Autobots had a camp located more to the south, deep inside the forest so as to evade the attention of the Decepticons as much as possible. They were about thirty Autobots there. Along the way, Northernlights was told about the war that had torn apart bots for ages. The Decepticons demanded change but were too radical in their actions. The Autobots agreed on change, but without so much violence.   
“Peace through tyranny, as they say, won’t solve anything. It’ll be more repressive than before. Change should be made slowly and by avoiding bloodshed.”  
This reminded Northernlights of Megatron’s words. But as she still did not trust completely the Autobots, she held her glossa.  
“But… Who attacked my home?”  
“Your home?”  
“The town of Tontuta.”  
“The Decepticons,” said Spinwheels seriously. “You’re too young to realize it but your home planet stayed neutral. Except those Decepticons forced the different towns here to choose a side. From what I know, there were lots of squabbling and for a while it looked like the bots here were about to pick our side, some letting us put some small bases, but then the neutral faction won again. Lot of good it did to them too. The Decepticons took it as an act of rebellion and bombed all your towns. Yours must have been amongst the last one to get hit.”  
Northernlights stayed silent, under the shock of these news. She had been completely unaware of all this conflict, recluse as she had been in her den. What had her family been doing? Which side had they taken?   
Spinwheels raised on optic at her.  
“I don’t get it. How come you don’t know any of this? You must have heard your parents or adult bots at least talking about it. I mean, it’s a war, for Primus’ sake!”  
“My… My parents kept me sheltered. And I spent a lot of time in the jungle.”  
This was a half-truth and she couldn’t bring herself to admit everything to these strangers. Maybe later.  
“I was in the jungle when the attack hit.”  
“How old are you anyway? You know your alt-mode?”  
“No. I’m nine vorns.”  
In reality, Northernlights was much older but her development seemed to be seriously in slow-mode. Physically, she seriously doubted she was more than eight vorns to start with.  
“You should know nonetheless, then,” insisted Spinwheels.  
“Well, I don’t,” she said, feeling her temper rising.  
“Leave the sparkling alone, Spinwheels. I have trouble giving her nine vorns to begin with. And my carrier had a hard time changing to his alt-mode until he was twelve vorns. We’re arriving at the camp anyway.”  
And as soon as they reached a clearing, Sunstampede yelled jovially:  
“Skidbleach! Add a bowl of energon! Because guess what? We found a stray!”

The camp of the Autobots was a completely new environment for Northernlights. First, living with other bots an utter change. She had to recharge surrounded by others. Worse, she was told when to recharge on account of her age, when before she had gone into recharge whenever she felt like it. She hated that but after a few scoldings she had no choice but to comply. Sunstampede laughingly told her that when she’d be older, a youngling, then she could stay up all night when on vacation. She also worked for others now and not only for her own survival. When she picked up fruits or plants in the forest, or collected water, it had to be for many bots. And washing hundreds of kitchen utensils took longer than her own little bowls and cups.

On the other hand, she learned quite a lot. Compress, the medic in the camp, had examined her and estimated her at being in rather good health and at the age of eight vorns.  
“You said you were nine, right? You had your sparkbirth celebration very recently, then?”  
“Yes,” she lied.  
“Well, I’m sure you would have asked for better presents than a Decepticon attack…” he sighed.   
As for her defective alt-mode, he had the same advice as his fellow Autobot. Just wait. Medical supplies were scarce here and he had not seen a working scan machine in vorns. He deemed her more than fit to stay with the Autobots. The leader of the camp, a dark red mech called Starkattack, said that Northernlights could be useful and that a ship to carry them off planet was bound to take them away in a few solar cycles. The Autobots would take the skinny femme with them. Numeea now belonged to the Decepticons.  
“You understand,” said Starkattack. “It would be too dangerous for you to stay here in the jungle, on your own.”  
“But… And my family?” asked Northernlights, not daring to say she had indeed lived in the rainforest for longer than any of them could think.   
“I’m sorry to tell you that if they did not die in the bombings, then they were taken as forced citizens or labor, if not slaves if they sided with the Autobot cause. Believe me, you’d do all of them a favor by keeping away from Decepticon society. You’ll be safer. I promise, once we reach a larger and stronger Autobot network, we can try to look for your family and decide what to do. But not now.”  
As she was about to cry, he had continued more kindly:  
“Don’t worry. In a few days, we’ll be picked up and in a few weeks’ time, we can look for your family.”  
She had simply nodded.

She also learned a lot and looked at starmaps and pictures of Cybertron, an intelligent femme called Longcircuit explaining to her the history of the civil war and what had occurred in all those vorns. An intelligence agent, she was also an amazing teacher. But looking at a file one cycle, Northernlights had received quite a shock.  
“Longcircuit! Longcircuit!”  
“What is it, little one?”  
“Who is he? Who is this mech?”  
“Well, that is Megatron. The leader of the Decepticons. Emperor Megatron, now, I guess. Why such a surprise over that?”  
“Oh, well, I mean… He looks very fierce, that’s all. And I remember seeing him on some screens my parents had at home,” hastily lied Northernlights.  
“Yes, fierce he certainly is. And cruel.”  
“Have you ever met him?”  
“Yes, once. Briefly. And I never wish you the same. He’d hurt you with no after-thoughts. Primus knows what goes on in his processor. Keep away from him if you can help it. Not that you’ll have many opportunities to meet him, gratefully.”  
Northernlights then had claimed to gather food for the Autobots and used her time in the forest to process all she had learned. She was in a nightmare. All this had to be just a dream. There must be a mistake somewhere. A logical explanation. How could her silver-grey friend have anything in common with the warlord the Autobots had shown her? What could have happened? If he was alive after all this time, why had he never come to see her again? Why had he destroyed her home world? He could not have forgotten what had happened on Numeea, could he? And that Megatron wasn’t his son. When Northernlights had casually asked if he had a family, saying aloud who could live with such a frightening bot, Longcircuit had laughed, saying Megatron claimed to be ready to start a family when his so-called mission of peace was achieved, although she pitied the poor mech or femme stuck at home with him, no penthouse on Iacon being grand enough to compensate sharing a life with the murderous warlord. So the scrawny little femme was at a loss to understand what sort of events had happened to lead Megatron to become warlord. She had saved him from Trepan. Worse, she had saved him from the rainforest AND from the horrible surgeon. What would the Autobots think of that? She frankly doubted they’d appreciate her rescuing twice the one they had been fighting for so long. True, at the time, Megatron was a miner with no murderous ambitions but she could guess their reaction would be at best unpredictable. Most Autobots just tolerated her within the camp. So she held her glossa but that night she slept extremely badly, her processor full of questions she was bursting to ask but could not possibly utter. 

However, she was not the only one. The ship supposed to pick up the Autobots had not arrived, or indeed given any news its arrival was imminent. This led to tense moments and heated arguments amongst the Autobots regarding what to do. They were on an island after all. Solar cycles passed divisions arose on what course of action to take. But it turned out they did not have to take any because the Decepticons attacked them by surprise one night.


	9. Not Exactly A Cruise...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Decepticons attack the camp and take everyone back to Cybertron to sell as slaves. Northernlights has got to quickly learn facts of life and face an uncertain future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers do not belong to me. 
> 
> Lots of angst and unpleasant facts of life in this chapter, be warned.

The sentinel had rung the alarm but much too late and much too briefly. The Decepticons had organized their attack very well, proving they had known for quite a bit of time where the camp was. Shots and shouts had fully woken up Northernlights and through the fires starting up on the wood of the barracks, she could see everyone running in a panic. Everybot was a blur and she was threatened to be stepped on or pushed over at any moment. The panic was contagious and invading everywhere. She did notice that few bots were actually shot, and that the immense majority were shot with tasers, weapons she had seen on a video shown by Longcircuit, the implements sending a jolt electricity, stunning the victim and allowing the Decepticon to come and restrain the fallen Autobot. Their goal was to get them alive. Northernlights felt something brush her soft protoform skin and saw a taser needle fall to the ground only a few meters from her. Harmless now but it had been aimed for her. She turned to the Decepticon but did not stay. She rushed across the camp, attempting to avoid the fires, the Decepticons and the bots trying to save their own selves, never mind those that tried to fight back in spite of the extremely low amount of weapons and ammunition. Several times, taser points hit the ground or a wooden wall right next to her but she continued her running, adding as many brutal swerves as she could, realizing her speed and small frame were here very good advantages. She even managed to use the fact that few noticed her to stop with her knife the legs of several Decepticons, the less to shoot at the Autobots.  
Moreover, as a Decepticon spent a split second staring at her in surprise, she got out of a pouch at her side a few flowers named Pissing Flowers. These bright yellow flowers secreted and stocked underneath their petals a sticky yellow juice that if squeezed came out forcefully. She had several in a leather pouch just in case. And she couldn’t think of a better use for these. She squirted the flower in the direction of his optics and the Decepticon screamed as his optics got covered in a sweet sticky fluid. Northernlights aimed at a few others, until all her unusual ammunition was out. The more Decepticons rubbed their visors or optics in anger and tried to get rid of the annoying flower sap, they could not attack the Autobots and gave more time for them to flee. Perhaps her combat instructor from long ago had underestimated her skills. And following his comments, she tried to reach a tree to climb it, figuring that she’d be safe on the highest branches. No Decepticon would think of looking for her there and even if they did, they’d never reach the branches she could cling to. But as she was about to reach the first branch, she was brutally pulled away from it. She screamed but saw it was Sunstampede. He hid behind the wooden wall of a barrack with her.  
“What the frag were you trying to do?  
“I was attempting to hide in a tree!”  
“Bad idea, kid. The fires are going to spread there and you’ll be stuck. If the Decepticons don’t have a shooting contest to see who knocks you out from your perch first.”  
He looked frantically around.  
“Frag,” he hissed. “The Decepticons have us almost completely encircled. There’s still an opening over there. I’ll go first and stay close at my heels. It’s our only chance!”  
Sunstampede had sprinted towards a small opening between the trees, next to a few tents. Northernlights had dutifully followed but had been cut by a gigantic Autobot mech called Toughsteel that had had the same idea as the dark yellow Autobot. It should not have mattered in any way, but in the end it did greatly.

“Hey!”  
Just as Northernlights was reaching the cover of the trees, she had been stopped abruptly and had stumbled to the ground. A net had fallen from the trees right above her. A big, solid and heavy net that she could not extricate herself from and impossible to cut with her knife.   
“Sunstampede! Help! I’m stuck! Come help me! Please!”  
If Toughsteel had not even looked behind him, crashing through the vegetation, Sunstampede had turned around and even started a few steps in her direction before turning away, all the excuses and sadness of the world in his optics.  
“Sunstampede! No! Please! Don’t leave me alone!” yelled Northernlights, still struggling inside the net.  
“Don’t leave me alone…” she sobbed tearfully.   
“Slag! I was trying to capture the huge one! Fragging slag!!!”  
Northernlights just had time to glimpse Sunstampede being swallowed by the thick forest before being pulled into the air, still in the net and losing her knife through its mesh. She watched the knife that had been in her hand for so many vorns fall in the grass and dirt, simply illuminated by the fires started in the attack. The knife she had maimed Trepan with and wounded Decepticons with. With which she had been ready to defend Megatron, even.   
“Slag!” exclaimed again the large Decepticon holding her high with one servo. “This is wat I get instead? A fragging sparkling worth slag?”  
“Tough luck, Sharpkick,” laughed another next to him. “You can still get credits out of her, though. She’s cute.”  
“I doubt her sale would even cover for the fuel used to transport her in space back to Cybertron,” Sharpkick grumbled.  
He carried Northernlights, still struggling in the net, to the center of the camp, where the last of the Autobots were rounded up and put in stasis cuffs and hit with electric rods to make sure they behaved. Several Decepticons were discussing seriously with others and noting things on datapads.  
“Hey, any handcuffs for this one?”  
“No. Too skinny. That’s a sparkling,” said one holding a datapads.  
“Thanks, I’ve noticed. Give me a solution, you slagger. I’m not holding her in there like that nonstop.”  
“I think there’s an old cage over there. She might fit in there.”  
With no word of thanks, the Decepticon rummaged in a pile of equipment and found a small iron cage, the lock and key still present. He then proceeded to forcibly put Northernlights in it. The little femme made his task as hard as possible, earning Sharpkick the mockery and laughs of all other Decepticons. Getting Northernlights disentangled from the net was hard enough, never mind the biting, scratching, screaming, kicking and incessant squirming.   
“Just… Ow! Get in there, you damn feisty little glitch! Or I swear I’ll…”  
He slapped her but it only made the sparkling more furious, if possible. Holding her arms was not hard, but it meant Sharpkick had issues maintaining Northernlights still long enough to thrust her in the cage, and then slam the door and set the lock.  
“There! Now you can squirm as much as you want. Little glitch…”  
Sharpkick banged the cage in revenge and left in a huff, ready for a glass of strong energex, ignoring the relentless teasing of his comrades. 

The cage was indeed very small. Northernlights could barely crouch inside it and turn around. She could pass her arms through the bars but it did nothing to help. The lock was solid and the key with her captor. After several hours, when the fires had smoldered and calm returned and when the skies were turning grey, one of the Decepticons with a datapad approached her. He and others bore insignas that were specific and looked to be doing official work.  
“And last but certainly least,” he muttered for himself.   
He bent over to get a closer look a Northernlights.  
“Name? Age? Alt-mode? I won’t even bother asking your function the camp. Autobots must be really desperate, to recruit sparklings barely out the arms of their carriers…”  
Angry, Northernlights turned away from the bot. He did not get angry though.  
“You should answer. Knowing who you are might help in determining the best possible future for you.”  
Northernlights stayed resolutely silent, but only for a few kliks.  
“The Autobots took me in. I’m not an Autobot but I think now I should be, considering what your kind had done.”  
“Too late and too young to pick a side,” he said matter-of-factly. “But you have character, I’ll give you that. So? I’m waiting.”  
“My name is Northernlights. I’m nine vorns old. I was born on this planet.”  
“Alt-mode?”  
“I don’t know. It hasn’t shown itself yet.”  
He wrote a bit more on his datapad and walked away, leaving Northerlights to wait for what the future held in store for her. Everything had changed in the span of just a few hours. And she could not resent Sunstampede for what he had done. He had really tried to help her. It wasn’t his fault the net had fallen on her. And in truth, what could he have done? He could not waste time carrying her or removing the net from her frame. But she would miss him atrociously. He had been so nice to her in the camp. He had been a friend.  
Northernlights would never see Sunstampede again. 

“I protest!” Sharpkick yelled.   
The prisoners had all been gathered together, all still in stasis cuffs and Nothernlights in her cage, near scavenged cargo that was meant to travel with the prisoners to Cybertron. The Decepticon spaceship was to pick them up soon, leading the Decepticons to pillage what they could and all happy at the idea of leaving Numeea behind. Most of them, at least.  
“I want a reassessment!” continued to scream Sharpkick, holding a datapad to the face of the Decepticon officer that had looked over at Northernlights earlier. To his credit, Northernlights thought the Decepticon did an excellent job at staying most calm in front of Sharpkick, as if he was a simple annoyance of no significance.  
“I entered what I could regarding your slave to sell. I did put she has character and courage as well as some smarts. It’s the best I can do.”  
“You also wrote that she struggles and bites and refuses to obey. How will she be sold? How will the auction bot find a way to get something out of her? She’s not even old enough to frag for a potential buyer!”  
“You have another slave to sell. And if you worry so much, drop her in an orphanage on Cybertron and be done with it,” he sighed.  
“No! I want something out of my trouble and time on this lost fragging planet!”  
“Then stop complaining and let me do my work.”  
“Hey, Sharpkick! You really got lucky with your slave. How many bottles of energon wine will you be able to treat us to, you think?” said a Decepticon nearby, relishing in his comrade’s anger.   
“Shut the Pit off!” answered a fuming Sharpkick.  
Northernlights was still in her cage and trying to follow the hushed conversations of Autobots next to her. From what she understood, they were to be all transported to Cybertron, but as rebels, their fate was slavery and to be sold to the highest bidder. That was why the Decepticons had tried their hardest to take captives rather than killing everybot. Each Decepticon had his prisoners inscribed so that he could get the credits out of the auction afterwards, thus earning him a large sum if he was lucky. Now she understood why Sharpkick had wanted to capture Toughsteel so much. With his frame, he would have been worth a lot. The Decepticon had certainly imagined the thousands of credits he could get out of the huge Autobot. But instead he gotten landed with her, the least sellable of all. Worse, Northernlights did not want to go to Cybertron. She wanted to stay in Numeea. How could she get used to such a different environment when she was perfectly happy staying here?

Finally, but too soon for Northernlights, the Decepticon ship had arrived and all had been pushed inside. The brig held cargo pushed to one room but another was filled with at least fifty other prisoners, all also in stasis cuffs and looking downtrodden, hungry or simply dirty and sad. Her fellow prisoners from the camp slowly spoke to them and some had come from other planets but others had been hiding in the forests of Numeea as well. All were frightened of being taken captive yet seemed also somewhat relieved to leave the tropical planet.   
Not in stasis cuffs, Northernlights’ cage was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. She yelped in protest and pain but felt the cage slide quickly and heard a kind and deep voice addressing her.  
“The landing wasn’t too harsh?”  
Gazing through the bars, she saw a giant of a mech, dark grey and with huge jaws, four dentae flat poking out from his lower and upper jaws even as he closed his mouth.  
“You all right, little one?”  
“I… I think…”  
“The trip might be rough. I’ll hold your cage next to me so it’ll stay put.”  
“Thank you…”  
“Those Decepticons didn’t hurt you too much? They could let you out and run around. No offense, but you’re not a threat. You’re just a little sparkling.”  
Just then, the engines rumbled to life. Northernlights then fully realized she was indeed leaving Numeea, for the first time and that she had no guarantee to ever come back. She started to panic and in her distress grabbed the bars of her cage and shook them with all her strength. Of course to no avail.  
“I need to get out of here! I can’t leave! I need to go see if my family is still alive! And my friends! I don’t want to be on this ship! I want to go back home!”  
She couldn’t stop herself from crying and screaming and too bad if she received curious looks.  
“I’ve had enough…I want out of this cage…”  
“Don’t worry,” said the big grey mech. “The trip will be over before you know it. It’ll last a few cycles only and I’ll stay with you, I promise.”  
“You promise?” she sniffed.  
“Yes,” he reassured her. “Besides, I know things look bleak and that it’s hard to face all that, but you have to hold on.”  
“Why is that?”  
“For us”, he whispered. “You’re a sparkling now, but one day you’ll be full-grown. You are the next generation. One cycle, the fate of Cybertronian culture will be in your hands. Things are tough right now, but the civil war is over and it’s up to you and all other sparklings to come to make sure you build a better future. Do a better job than our ancestors. Show that you are aware of your responsibilities. Be an example, all right?”  
“But I’m scared.”  
“And you have every right to be but you have to stay strong and brave.”  
“But what will happen to me?”  
“You’ll go to an orphanage. That’s for sure. Sparklings don’t bring any credits as slaves. What would anyone do with you? You’ll be fed there, and receive an education and find ways to make Cybertron a better place. You’ll make friends and maybe you’ll find your relatives. Who knows? You might get adopted by a kind couple. You’re so cute, I bet it will happen so fast you won’t even spend a sole night at the orphanage. And you can go back to your home planet later, when you’re full-grown. And you’ll be so changed and great that your original family won’t believe it’s you and refuse to link the little sparkling they lost to the fierce femme they’ll lay their optics upon.”  
“Really?...” said Northernlights in awe, quickly getting absorbed in the bot’s stories and kind words.

His name was Strongjaw and he had been an Autobot fighter and builder on a planet with marshes. He knew lots of stories and had a spark bigger than his own frame. He reassured Northernlights constantly and she put out her servo through the bars of the cage to touch his warm frame. He made her laugh with his jokes and told her of all the planets he’d been on. He helped her cope with leaving Numeea but telling her orphanages on Cybertron were good places and that with the war over, a lot of couples wanted to start a family. Life had to go on. That was certainly why her two brothers were alive and that she might find them in the most unexpected of moments, alive and well. She would just have to act cute to get away from the orphanage at the least little problem. He instructed her to make faces and do somersaults to look endearing in the optics of prospective parents. Northernlights felt ill-at-ease performing these antics but remembered to do them if need be.

Unfortunately, all of Strongjaw’s conversations could not obliterate the anguished talks of the Autobots around them. And she heard frightening speculations. Many Autobots feared reprogramming and having their personalities altered and changed. The simple thought turned their energon fluid cold and with reason.  
“Wait a klik”, she asked a neighbor of Strongjaw. “Megatron agrees with the reprogramming of bots?”  
“Of course he does,” grumbled the beige Autobot. “It serves his purposes perfectly. He’s got skilled Decepticons performing these operations. The results are awful to witness if you’ve known the bots before. I bet these ‘Cons enjoy it though. Why wouldn’t Megatron want reprogramming for his enemies? He and his pals must be happy to see Autobots with new personalities and whoop internally when they think of what they were before.”  
‘Because Megatron helped me avoid such a fate and I saved him from reprogramming myself vorns ago’, Northernlights thought. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It couldn’t be true. Megatron knew personally what it felt to be reprogrammed. So why would he impose it on so many other bots? It must be an awful mistake. Perhaps Megatron wasn’t aware that Decepticons were performing such things. Someone had to tell him and then he would pout a stop to it. Yes, that had to be it. Once he knew that reprogramming was occurring secretly under his rule, he’d arrest all the culprits and restore the victims to their original states.  
“Stop scaring the sparkling,” growled Strongjaw to the beige bot.   
“And you, stop telling her everything is going to be fine when it’s not! She won’t go to an orphanage. She was caught among Autobots and she’ll be sold on auction same as us!”  
“Quiet!”  
“Yeah, she’s too young to be bought as a mate. Lots of good that’ll do her! Decepticons give credits to those that buy Autobots as sparkmates when they legitimize their bond and give even more credits when they have sparklings together. Legitinate only on the part of the Decepticon, of course! Between schooling and Autobots forced to stay behind with their imposed sparkmates, our entire movement will die in not even one generation. And the Decepticons will have the future generations believing unfailingly in their ideology. Parental hope for credits, being treated as a pet, processorwashing at school and possible reprogramming and forced union when she’s of age. That’s what to expect for her. Then again, those forced to spark are the lucky ones. Decepticons will enjoy having new interface slaves too in their brothels, you can be sure of that.”  
“That’s not true!” Strongjaw hissed.  
“Stop lying to her! Anyway, she’ll see soon enough that you were just trying to make her feel better. Auction or orphanage, she’ll realize who was telling the truth.”  
Afterwards, Strongjaw had slowly said that she was too young to sell and that as a result, she’d go to an orphanage, no questions asked. Northernlights had pretended to agree with him but she could not help remember that Sharpkick had said he wanted to have her sold and that unfortunately, he seemed to know what he was talking about.   
Even later, due to her questions, Strongjaw had felt forced to explain to Northernlights the difference between interfacing and sparking. Both had been the sane in Northernlights’ mind, like for many sparklings until they knew better. She had learned then that interfacing was just for pleasure and did not necessarily involve sparking a little one. Worse, interfacing could bring pleasure to only one and be forced upon a bot, it being called rape. Strongjaw felt terrible instructing her in these harsh facts of life but was even more afraid to have another bot tell her of it or worse, letting her discover these with her own optics and with no one to help her understand. 

After three cycles, a cosmic storm had hit, leading to much fright for all concerned. If the Decepticons were almost all at the commands trying to stabilize the spaceship and bear the storm, the prisoners in the brig were left with alarms, blinking lights and terrible tremors. Screams erupted at each shake of the walls and Northernlights was no exception. She clutched Strongjaw’s servo through the bars of her cage and her big friend held her cage tightly but it did not stop her screaming that she wanted to go back to Numeea. Strongjaw kept reassuring her, saying they would all make it through and that the Decepticons were good at spacetravelling, in spite of their other many flaws. Northernlights attempted to not empty her tank of the little fluids it contained, although telling noises around her told that others had. She grimaced in disgust at a pool of regurgitated fluid dripping near her cage but knew it would have been stupid to be angry at anyone in such a situation.

But a scream started to erupt above the others, more and more often. A scream of pure pain. A femme could not refrain from expressing her agony and quickly, words relayed why exactly.  
“She’s carrying!”  
“She was about due any cycle now…”  
“I bet with no food and with the disturbances of the storm, it brought the delivery early…”  
“It’s horrible…”  
The femme continued screaming in pain and desperately demanding a medic. She was still in stasis cuffs and could do nothing. Finally a Decepticon medic came over with two other soldiers and looked rapidly at her and examined her.  
“Birth cannot be postponed. I’ll remove the cuffs. Watch over her. I’ll try to make this as easy and quick as possible.”  
“Please…” she breathed. “I beg of you. I don’t want to lose the little one… That’s all I have left of my sparkmate. He died when we were attacked.”  
“Any other carriers on board about to go into labor early?” shouted the medic.  
“Negative”, shouted a Decepticon on the other side of the brig a moment later. “Two other mechs are carrying but they have small bumps yet. They are experiencing discomfort but that’s it.”  
“Just the situation and stress bringing fright to the sparklings inside, then. Let them be and tell them to try to relax.”   
The medic continued trying to help the pregnant femme but the sparkling did not want to come out swiftly. Not that Northernlights blamed the baby bot. The world he was about to enter was not encouraging to come into. She understood perfectly if he wanted to remain inside his carrier’s valve rather than face from the start Decepticons and a frightening cosmic storm.   
“Push at each contraction!”  
“I’m trying! It hurts too much!”  
“Your valve opening is too tight. I can’t reach inside. That would help but it’s too narrow…”  
After a few minutes, the medic looked around frantically all across the brig and shouted:  
“The sparkling! Bring me the sparkling now!”  
“What sparkling, doc-bot?”  
“The only one, you slag! The one in the cage. Get her the frag out and bring her to me! Now!”  
Movements came over to Northernlights but the soldier quickly saw the lock. He cursed loudly and shouted to the medic that he had to get Sharpkick’s key and je hurried away before the medic had time to yell anew, stumbling across the ship as the disturbances increased even more. He came back with the key and unlocked the cage, grabbing Northernlights and carrying her across the brig to where the femme was crying in pain, trembling and mumbling under her breath. The Decepticon just set Northermlights next to the medic and waited with bated breath. The medic gave the young femme a cursory glance or rather her arms.  
“You look skinny enough. All right, listen to me. Reach into the valve and feel for the sparkling. Tell me if you feel the pedes or the helm. Come on!”  
Without taking time to think for fear of losing her courage, Northernlights put her left arm inside the valve. The femme groaned in pain. It was warm, moist but tight even for her. She finally felt something.   
“It’s the helm. I can feel it.”  
“Finally some good news… Can you seize it? Put your other hand in.”  
Northernlights thrust her right arm into the femme’s valve as fast as possible so that her pain would be brief. Her scream did not give that feeling, though.  
“You got it?”  
“I think. I hope.”  
“At the next contraction, I’ll push on her belly and you’ll pull the sparkling towards you. Got it?”

The birth had taken more contractions then Northernlights had counted. She had stopped counting after the tenth. But once the head was out, the worst was over and the femme’s cries had slowly subsided. The sparkling was a femme, although rather large. Her carrier sighed in relief and smiled when she saw her. The medic finally relaxed too, tired to the extreme, and asked for a bowl of hot water, energon cubes and some clean rags, as well as a blanket. Northernlights had washed her arms covered in energon fluids and had been allowed to sit near the femme now cuddling her sparkling, after the medic had cleaned both and wrapped the sparkling in a blanket that was old and worn but clean.  
“She’s so beautiful and strong…” said the femme while feeding her newspark a little cube of energon.   
“How are you going to name her?” asked Northernlights.  
“What is your name?”  
“Northernlights.”  
“Then I will call her Polarforce. I don’t know how we would have managed if you had not been there. I would have had to have my valve opened and Polarforce might have been an orphan by now. Thank you,” she said, her optics full of gratitude.  
“Come on, back in your cage,” ordered one of the Decepticon soldiers while another fit ankle stasis cuffs on the new parent. The medic looked sideways at Northernlights and muttered:  
“Good job, kid.”  
Strongjaw gave her much warmer congratulations and the sparkling felt better than she had in a long time. Polarforce. A sparkling was named after her. She swore she’d never forget that name. The newspark was alive and well and even the cosmic storm seemed to have subsided.

A few joors later, the ship was out of the storm and calm had returned, to everyone’s relief. Even the constant crying of Polarforce across the brig seemed a quiet relaxing sound after all that had happened. And barely more than a cycle later, Cybertron was in view. But for Northernlights, she wondered if the storm had not been a lot kinder to all of them. The lands of origin of her ancestors were not actually welcoming, considering the circumstances of her arrival.


	10. The Auction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slave auction separates Northernlights from her new friends but leads to future acquaintance and to her asserting herself in spite of her humiliations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers belongs to their rightful owner. 
> 
> Things will get better for Northernlights starting from next chapter!

Sightseeing and tourism were obviously not on the list of things to do as the Decepticon ship landed and its cargo and future slaves were taken out. Strongjaw carried her cage and Northernlights felt grateful for she was rather unwell. No food, the stress of the storm and strain of helping in Polarforce’s birth, as well as the fact that she had barely slept because Polarforce’s crying had sapped all stamina out of her. They were all placed in very large room where all Decepticons gathered around them all of their captives. Strongjaw placed her cage on the ground and sadly said goodbye, telling her to remember all he had taught her, again assuring her she’s just be in an orphanage in a few joors and that some bot couple would be lucky to count her in and that he wouldn’t forget her. Sharpkick arrived. His other captive had been a rather tall mech from the camp whom Northernlights had never really talked with. Sharpkick opened her cage but pulled her out himself by grabbing her white cables.  
“Let’s make things clear right now, glitch,” he hissed. “You try to run, bite, scratch or just open your fragging mouth, I’ll beat you to an inch of your life and then deactivate you. Do you understand?”  
He raised his servo as if to strike her to show he meant business. Northernlights nodded but Sharpkick backhanded her anyway, sending her to the ground.  
“Just so you know I’m not fragging around.”

Over the course of the joors, the room became animated to the extreme. Decepticons stood new their respective prisoners and workers arrived to propose their trade in polishing, washing or scrubbing bots to make them look more presentable, them haggling on each’s commission and share in the final price. Others repeatedly hit their prizes with electric rods to make sure they stayed obedient to the end or understood better their new position in life. A bot in bright red colors and with dark green stripes kept consulting a datapad and going from one group to the other. When he reached Sharpkick, he asked:  
“Okay, I’m the manager of the auction. What do you have?”  
After glancing at the two bots, a few seconds longer at Northernlights, he said:  
“Considering the sparkling, I’ll put you at the very end. Any help with commissions, adding to the 10% of auction costs?”  
“I’m getting a grooming for the sparkling. Is the bot on stage good?”  
“You have no idea,” the other laughed. “He could sell anybot anything.”  
“Who’s the best grooming bot around here? I’m not sure I can get much out of a sparkling.”  
The auction bot frowned at the said sparkling:  
“Cleandigit, for sure. But I wouldn’t worry too much. She’s got potential. If you want to push your luck, and considering she’ll get some grooming, I’d say she could start at 200 credits.”  
“Better than nothing,” Sharpkick grunted.  
“You’re all set, then.”  
Strongjaw had been wrong. There had been not even a mention of the orphanage and Northernlights felt herself slowly being snapped in small pieces.

Northernlights sat, arms on her knees and faceplate in her arms until she heard Sharpkick addressing a robot, referring to him with the name of the bot that had to groom her.  
“I hope you’re worth your credits because I got stuck with that slag sparkling and I want to make more than a paltry profit out of her. I want to get rid of her. I’m afraid no one will buy her so if you could increase the chances of making so she gets off my servos, then I’d appreciate it.”  
The grooming bot was tall, lanky, and white all over. He smelled of a sweet polish. He looked over at Northernlights carefully and tilted her helm, but with gentle gestures.  
“Well, first, if you really wanted to have her sold at the right price, you wouldn’t have smacked her, especially across the face. The mark should be gone but I’ll apply some concealer to make it gets hidden.”  
Sharpkick only grumbled.  
“I’ll wash and scrub her, that won’t be a useless procedure. But what do you want for the general impression?”  
“A good one so she is sure to sell! What do you think?”  
“I mean,” Cleandigit said in an exaggerated patient tone. “I see she’s got some exotic necklaces here. Do you want to go for the whole exotic little thing or maybe for the sweet and proper style.”  
“I don’t know. I don’t care. You’re the expert. Whatever will sell.”  
Cleandigit sighed.  
“All right. Prim and proper, then. It’s better in the long-term.”  
He opened his large bag and took out many bottles.  
“All right, little one. I’ll tell you how it goes. I’ll scrub you first so you’re nice and clean. And then, it’ll be a few accessories to look like you’ve just stepped out of a fancy salon with your carrier. Sounds good to you?”  
“I don’t know…” Northernlights muttered. “If you want…”  
“Now, now… I’m the best in trade and if not all members of high society do not want you as their own, may it be sparkling or future sparkling-in-law, I won’t be worth my title. Believe me, you’ve got the exotic style no problem but after being viewed as an exotic oddity, your owners might get tired of it. Believe me, the lost little senator’s daughter is much better.”  
All through the grooming process. Northernlights had stood still and obeyed Cleandigit, more out of fear than true obedience. He ordered her to remove her shell necklace, adding that she could keep them in her servo while on stage. He had put lotion on her frame that smelled of roses, then went off briefly to get more accessories. He brushed her cables into a half-ponytail and attached it with a pink silk ribbon. He knotted another one on her neck and gave her a white plush toy of an animal sporting the same look.   
“Good!” exclaimed Cleandigit clapping his servos. “That should do the trick!”  
“I… I feel ridiculous…” mumbled Northernlights.  
“Precisely,” grumbled Sharpkick meanly. “It becomes you perfectly.”  
“You look adorable! No time to teach you the rules of a little lady of good society, so just be coy and demure, all right? Think about your carrier.”  
“Whatever’s going to work,” spat Sharpkick. “You’ll have your commission, but it better work!”  
Cleandigit was already packing his trade accessories.  
“I have other people to see. People who understand my art more than you do, obviously.”  
Looking around, Northernlights could see that other bots had received a similar treatment. Polarforce had received a soft spotless blanket to be wrapped in and her carrier given a bottle of energon to feed her. It did not stop the newspark from crying, as per usual.

At long last, the room had fallen silent as each group of bots for sale made their way to the other room, hidden from view and as each one climbed on stage. Guards were watching so that no last desperate attempt at freedom could be made. No slave could see anything but they could hear the bot on stage extolling the ,merit of each poor bot shown and acknowledging each bidder. The manager had not lied about the fact that this bot was good at selling. In his words, every slave was the opportunity of a lifetime. The carrying mechs were good to acquire because the sparklings would easily learn discipline in the home they were born into as well as being sweet little things running around the house. As for Polarforce, she would brighten up any household and her carrier would be thankful for whoever gave her sparkling a home. Others were praised for their strength, skills, armor or personality. Each time she heard a name she knew, Northernlights felt her spark tighten painfully.

When at last her turn came, she felt devoid of will and energy.  
“Remember, act shy or whatever, or else…” whispered Sharpkick threateningly behind her. A Decepticon brought her on stage by pulling on her arm. Northernlights felt like being sick and clutched her toy as if her life depended on it.  
“And the last of this auction!” shouted the stage bot in his microphone. “We saved the cutest for last!”  
The lights blinded Northernlights’ optics. She could not even see the stage bot or even the audience. She had to act shy but she did not know how. She just stared at her own pedes but it was out of shame and not in coyness.  
“Little Northernlights. She’s barely nine vorns old but already the cutest little thing! Legitimize her and adopt her and she’ll quickly bring back the two hundred credits of her price. Anybot would be happy to show her around in their house and have her hiding behind a parent in timidity!”  
Northernlights’ humiliation reached a definite climax when after these words a complete silent followed, only punctuated by a few coughs.  
“An adopting couple would ingratiate themselves forever in her processor! And she’s not only cute, she is intelligent and spontaneous. It is a total surprise as to what she could one day be!”  
At this, he lifted her chin but annoyed by the physical contact she shrugged away from it. She’s had enough anyway. No one wanted her. That was clear. Whatever those bots were looking for, she wasn’t it.  
“A little discipline is in order, as you can see, but what sparkling does not need it? Once you tame her, you can boast of your parenting skills to all your acquaintances! A good education is what’s needed for sparklings, ask anybot! Once disciplined, adorable as she is, you can prove to everybot that…”  
“Two hundred and ten credits!”   
A voice had shouted in the audience but Northernlights could not say who. And as no one bid any higher, she was promptly moved from the stage and placed in a sort of waiting room. Other bots were there, being taken by their buyers that settled their payment and took away their new slaves.   
“I bought Northernlights.”  
“But your ID information is different from…”  
“Here’s my official ID card. I bought her for a third-party. Tax benefits from sparklings and all that. The papers will be filled and given appropriately. As you can see, the administrative concerns will be dealt with legally.”  
“I see…” the other bot said, suddenly flustered.   
So the green and black bot had bought her for someone else. Worse, just to get money out of her buy being adopted. She did not want that! She didn’t want to be a tool after being rejected and humiliated as she had just been!  
“You. The sparkling. Come with me. I’ll get you to your new home.”  
She followed obediently and once outside, she stopped in awe. Cybertron was different from anything she could have imagined in spite of seeing pictures. All was metal and glass, with towers and domes reaching the skies in a crazy sort of contest. And more bots to see in one minute than she had seen in her entire lifetime. Vehicles everywhere. Sounds coming from all corners.  
“Come on.”  
The bot accompanying her grabbed her by the upper arm. This made her snap out of her state of intense daze.  
“I’ll drop you off to your new home.”  
“But… Who bought me? Why?”  
“You’ll see. Now come.”   
“No, I don’t want to.”  
“You want a slap in the face?”  
“No…”  
One today had been enough but if that bot was violent, she did not want to imagine what her buyer was like.   
The green and black bot transformed into a car and opened his door for her.  
“Climb in. Now.”  
“I refuse! I am no slave. I’m free, as I was on Numeea!”  
She threw the toy in the inside of the car and ran away in the crowds of pedestrian bots. Leaving the other bot to transform again would give her more time. Dodging other bots and slipping between them was not that different from running in the jungle and she quickly disappeared from view. Cars were another matter though as she almost got hit several times and was told off most aggressively. It only gave her a reason to continue fleeing. The more distance between buyers and her, the better.

She had crossed and followed so many streets she had no idea how long she had run or in what district or neighborhood she was. She had gone down the less crowded streets to meet the less bots anyway. Except the part of Iacon she was now was clearly derelict and in dire need of improvement. Many buildings were boarded up or had rusty scaffoldings, as well as broken windows. A few bots lied slumped without moving. Upon hearing a strange noise from one house, Northernlights too fright and climbed a scaffold to the highest degree. This was no tree. This was no jungle. This was worse. It was a huge city in which she was a fugitive. It was ugly and foul. Never had Numeea felt as far away as this instant. And already the sky was darkening, little stars shyly appearing. Which one should she look to in order to follow her gaze towards the direction of Numeea? As she shifted on the scaffolding, a broken shard of windowpane reflected her own image. She could see the bows in the hair and around her neck. She still felt ridiculous but could understand a little why other bots had found her endearing. But none had rushed to buy her. Should she feel vexed? Cleandigit had been so sure… What had gone wrong? Her attitude? But she had just lowered her gaze… Would she have felt better and valued if more bidders had clamored for her? Would that have been a sign of going to a good family? But how could she have fit in? She was feral, after all. Sighing, she removed the bow from her neck and used it to attach her cables behind her neck. She then reattached her shell necklaces. At least those felt normal. She then lied down to rest a little. And also because she had no idea what to do next. Try to survive here as she had in the jungles of Numeea, she supposed. Except there were more bots and much less landscape with trees and ocean shores here. Cybertron was definitely not Numeea but perhaps her feral upbringing could come in handy. For now, she was safe on this scaffolding. Any bot heavier than her, meaning every bot, would make a ruckus coming up and warn her.

Of course, Northernlights had reasoned in terms of what she did in the jungle. She had never taken into account planes and seekers in Numeea. She thought to look for intruders down but not up. And such a blue and red seeker left the rooftops stealthily but called another in a nasal voice as soon as he was out of earshot.  
“Skywarp? It’s Starscream. You won’t believe what I’ve found out. I just need to make a few calls and call in a few favors. Remind me, was it you or Thundercracker that boasted about being talented in acting?”


	11. Megatron's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron learns of the auction and reflects on it and on Northernlights' fate as well as his life as emperor and with his partner within the domestic sphere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers doesn't belong to me, no surprise there.
> 
> Domestic fluff in this chapter, with a focus on canon characters. Enjoy!

Megatron looked at his datapads, his mood darkening with each passing klik. He couldn’t believe his rotten luck. It had all started when he had been looking at the list of slaves being auctioned. The concept of slavery did not appeal to him but he planned on making it most temporary. To help, he had made laws to legitimize unions with slaves so that they would regain automatically their freedom and gave generous allocations if sparklings were produced out of such bonds. Ex-slaves would have trouble running away with sparklings in tow and would certainly become too busy with their education to think of planning and resisting his new order. Mandatory schooling also meant the sparklings would be unlikely to listen to Autobot propaganda uttered by one of their parents, even if such a thing happened. Reprogramming also made the transition infinitely smoother, also keeping Soundwave and Shockwave busy and rich. In a few generations, the Autobot rebellion would be considered a madness to be relegated in the darker pages of history books. And the sales and work of slaves in labor, as loath as he was to admit it, was generating good profit as well as stimulating Decepticon soldiers to go after the lost pockets of Autobot resistance with gusto. He could only chose the lesser evil, be as benevolent as he could through other laws and make sure slavery fully ended as soon as possible. And the way to make sure to keep control on the damn necessary evil was to check himself that no extensive abuse could occur.

And then he had seen it. The last name of a long list. A name he had never forgotten although hardly thought about. Northernlights. The little sparkling from the jungle. The one that had inexplicably saved him from Trepan before disappearing just as suddenly. He had first thought of a name coincidence but the other details for the slave put on auction matched everything he could remember: the planet of Numeea, the region, the age, the short size, the general appearance. The biting habit. He wondered how she had ended up as an Autobot in their camp and wondered briefly if the captive was in fact the daughter of the Northernlights he had met so long ago. But the resemblance was too big when he looked at the footage of the auction. She was the same Northernlights. No doubt about it. The one that had befriended him. The innocent sparkling that had saved him twice and been sweet to him. That had loved his writing and gave him comfort and seashells. How everything had changed for him since then… All had changed. Through the vorns he had thought about coming back for her but each time it had been pushed back and all for good reason. He had been a miner. Then a gladiator. Then a warrior. A rebel. A warlord. An emperor. His rule still needed stability. This was no moment to take in a sparkling and give his enemies a weak point. And what if he could not provide for her? His first working careers and the war had made the very idea of having her at his side ludicrous. But now…

Now, in an indirect way, she had come to him. And he had to rescue her. It was his turn. He had asked one of his underlings to purchase her, officiously in his name. He didn’t want to be seen at a slave auction and buying the sparkling would have gotten bots gossiping wildly, not to mention he preferred a lot of other shows rather than slave auctions. He’d rather go to art auctions. They were boring to death but less conflicting and socializing there was much, much easier. And he couldn’t be sure of Northernlights’ reactions. She could have blurted unwanted information. She always had a good memory. It could have led to difficult situations. He preferred staging his own rumors concerning him and he could do that with Northernlights later, when the circumstances were fully under his control.   
Not that the young femme had left him much of a chance. She had managed to run from his employee and had disappeared. Leaving only a plush toy for a very, very embarrassed employee to bring back to Megatron’s penthouse. Megatron had been at a loss for words for a few minutes. He had then yelled copiously at his underling to start signaling to all police forces the escape of a slave that had been formally acquired the very few minutes before. He left him to deal with the details, like giving the specific instructions of not harming or damaging his property and of calling him at any hour as soon as there was news. He had asked the employee to promise a reward for whoever would bring her back but whoever returned the lost sparkling would be surprised at what kind of reward he could give. After all, he was emperor. He could give a lot more than credits. Yes, the sparkling would soon be found. There were no jungles on Cybertron and eventually she would have to show herself. She had no credits and no place to go. She was most ill-equipped to survive on this planet and would probably commit the worst mistakes without even realizing it. Not that he could really blame her. She must have been frightened and overwhelmed to the last degree and just bolted out of reach due to her fears and incomprehension at what was happening around her. Panic had seized her and she had acted accordingly. She didn’t realize that he was the one that had bought her. He was certain she would not have ran away if she had. Not that the auction must have been a pleasant experience, for her especially. No one else had wanted her and even that incredibly annoying auction bot had seen the limits for his publicity. On the other hand, bots did not buy sparklings as slaves. First because in his laws, sparklings had to be adopted and legitimized by procedure if ever by very unusual circumstances they ended in slave auctions, and that under no circumstances could a sparkling be a slave, and because slaves were used for practical matters and sparklings could not be used for reproduction or interfacing or to be set to work by definition. A bot could have bought Northernlights to then adopt her and get the state financial help in raising a sparkling, another law he had passed to promote legitimate families and a demographic rise that the civil war had greatly reduced to worrying levels, but the bots in the auction rooms were not there for that. They wanted more physical and direct benefits. Not to mention that her details showed a still unknown alt-mode and a feisty temper, not exactly what prospective parents were looking at first. Not to add to it all that the grooming had been overdone and clashed with the image he had retained of her. More than shy, she was completely lost and scared and ready to defend herself through the crowds to return to her home and what she was familiar with. Anybot could see that. Then again, he had been the only one to have seen her as a wildling little one so long ago. But the idea of Northernlights lost and having to search for her, albeit indirectly, was seriously annoying him and leading to counterproductive hours. Yet he was dealing with it in a better way than Optimus back in the luxurious penthouse near the seats of power and governance.

As he had finished the stormy conversation with his underling and let him see his own self outside as fast as possible, leaving on the great marble table the white plush toy that was the sole thing that he had brought back, Optimus had opened the door to the spacious living-room and asked tentatively:  
“She… She is not here?...”  
“Ran away in fright. But we’ll find her. Keep her toy in the meantime. That’s the only thing she left behind her.”  
He had more forcefully than he had expected thrown the toy in Optimus’ direction in frustration. The former Prime had delicately picked it up, observed it and examined it.  
“She’s just a sparkling. She didn’t know what was going on. You can’t blame her.”  
“No, it’s true. But I will make the rules clear to her. Like with any young one. The info provided by the auction made clear that she needs it. I’m counting on you too. You’re better with this sort of thing than I am.”   
Optimus had nodded and turned to leave.  
“I’m sorry,” said Megatron. “I know you wanted sparklings. And I come back with news of one to you and now…”  
Optimus kissed him lightly.  
“It’s not your fault. I’ll get dinner ready.”  
Megatron had waited, a glass of high-grade energon in his servo. He had liked legitimizing his union with Optimus. It sent a strong message of peace and reconciliation. He had mated a high member of the Autobot resistance and had settled down with him, not even considering him a slave in any way. A lot of other Decepticons and citizens had followed suit, the latter imitating the new public figure that was Megatron. Optimus invested himself in charity organizations in favor of the poor of Cybertron and in keeping the penthouse organized and clean, the sole haven of true privacy that Megatron enjoyed. Coming from the higher spheres of Cybertronian society originally, Optimus never failed to pick the right accessories and official ornaments for Megatron’s socializing events and other niceties of the kind. Optimus never overly enjoyed these fancy social events but always had a nice word for one and all. The tall mech was also quite handsome which did not spoil the effect, quite the contrary. But Megatron knew that at times Optimus got bored, alone in the penthouse and lacking some distractions. The former Autobot wanted sparklings but Megatron opposed the idea for now, as he wanted to secure his empire fully and make sure he had the right amount of time and energy to give to a young one. And now one had appeared, making Optimus extremely happy, only to vanish away. But no real matter. In a few days, the matter should be solved. 

That night, in the large and as comfortable as money could afford berth, Megatron could feel his mate was being reckless.  
“What’s the matter?” he asked lightly stroking Optimus’ cheek.  
“I’m thinking about that poor little sparkling. Where can she be? What if she is in danger? She might be cold and certainly hungry. I want to help her but I don’t even know where she is.”  
“We’ll find her, I promise. And then you can keep her as close as you want to make sure she remains safe.”  
“She must have felt no one wanted her. That’s terrible.”  
Megatron had of course not told Optimus the history he shared with the sparkling.  
“You’ll have your whole like to make her feel otherwise,” Megatron said softly as he kissed Optimus’ servo. “Just sleep and go about your day. Let me deal with the rest. You’ll be holding her in your arms before you know it.”  
Before going offline, Megatron thought that if Northernlights was on the lam for too long, he’d let Optimus be as overprotective as he wanted to and that the first time the former Prime would let go of her servo would be when she’d be officially mated to her conjux endura.


	12. Seekers and Actors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream goes along with his plan, helped by his two fellow seekers whom have to do quite a bit of acting to see their mission to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Transformers.
> 
> This chapter focuses also on more canon characters. Skywarp and Thundercracker are sparkmated in this story. And don't worry, Northernlights will be feeling better!

Northernlights wished she could get a good recharge for once. When had she been able to go offline without wanting to go find a decent berth? She missed her den terribly. Through the joors, hunger had woken her up and she had fallen offline again just to forget that she was so hungry. The rickety planks of wood on which she was recharging had remained with no vibrations to warn her of an intruder. Lying on her side, sleep kept at bay all the problems that would besiege her as soon as she would move her sore frame. Problems that Numeea had never prepared her to tackle, like where to find food and where to live. She just had to worry about tropical storms and bots that could enter the jungle more than they should and approaching her den. She had never realized how different Cybertron could be. Why would anyone trade Numeea for such a place at all costs? Even the noises she heard underneath her appeared unnatural. But she had learned quickly to ignore them and just focus on any vibrations of the wood planks. This would be the trigger for a flight or a fight. But although with merits, Northernlight’s plan still failed to assume all the vehicle modes of her fellow Cybertronians.

“Whatever are you doing here, sweetspark?” said a voice right above and behind her.  
Northernlights startled abruptly and turned to face a bot flying right next to the scaffold. This one clearly had not produced any vibrations. So much for her idea. And she saw the glyphs on his chest and arms indicating that he was a member of the police force. Her escape had not lasted more than a night.  
“It’s all right, sweetie. I won’t hurt you. But you cannot stay here. It’s not safe. Why ever would you sleep here? Is someone trying to hurt you? Or your family?”  
Northernlights stayed still. The police bot’s voice was kind and he made no sudden gestures to grab her.  
“Don’t be afraid. I am here to help all bots, whoever they might be. It’s my job. And you cannot stay here. I will help you, I promise.”  
As the sparkling still felt hesitant, the bot tried another approach.  
“I have a little mech who is about your age. I would never leave him to sleep on a scaffold and have him hungry like you are. Also, I’d be worried sick if he was on his own in such a district. I would greatly appreciate if a police bot made sure he was safe. Do you understand?”  
She nodded. If the bot had a sparkling her age, he certainly could understand better her predicament.  
“I will get you to the police station and while you’re eating a warm energon meal, we can search for your parents. If you’re in trouble with them, I swear I’ll smooth things over with them. But I bet that they’re so worried that they won’t care to ground you, so relived they’ll be to have news.”  
The police bot did seem to know what he was talking about. Except for one thing.  
“My parents are not… I mean, they’re…”  
She could not continue, hesitating on the word to use. Not alive? Offlined? Missing? Wounded and agonizing? Primus knows where? Bombed? Victims of war?  
Her deep trouble must have shown on her faceplate.  
“Okay, I get it. Your family situation is complicated. So then, I’ll get you to the orphanage. At least you’ll be safe. No questions asked. Does that seem better? Because I can’t leave you here. That would be against my sworn principles.”  
The orphanage. Strongjaw had told her she should have been placed there in the first place. But he had been wrong. He had lied. But perhaps he was right regarding once she was in said orphanage. What choice did she really have? At least, as the police bot said, she’d be safe.  
“I prefer the orphanage, then.”  
“Good! You’ll be safer and I’ll recharge better knowing you are.”  
He delicately picked her up. He smelled of cleanliness and of polish. Once on the ground, he changed into a police vehicle and had her climb in, leaving the misery-ridden streets behind, a neighborhood in which the police rarely ventured and even more rarely flew to look at the top of scaffolds. Northernlights had been the happy receiver of quite a coincidence, even though she didn’t realize it. So much of a coincidence that it appeared too good to be true…

The next day, Skywarp and Thundercracker approached a building that had recently been renovated, one story high and with a little back garden which contained outdoor toys.  
“You’ve understood everything?” checked Skywarp with his sparkmate.  
“Yes. We’re a bonded couple looking to adopt desperately. I need to play the mate that has problems carrying and that as a result has the impulsion to cuddle every sparkling. You handle the formalities, I’ll play laureate to parent of the year.”  
“Good. Because we get only one shot. And because if Starscream is right, then getting our servos on this kid will be a real help in gaining gratitude and influence in Megatron’s inner circle.”  
“He’s sure she’s there?” asked Thundercracker.  
“He said he’s arranged everything. He had a police bot working for him put her in the local orphanage after smooth-talking her. Didn’t even have to show the fake pictures of his supposed sparkling, apparently. We know what she looks like. He’s told you, so pretend to fall instantly in love with her, as if you’re really her carrier having lost his sparkling. Aim to impress the workers here.”  
“And when we bring her back home?”  
“We continue to play happy little family until Starscream talks to Megatron about the sparkling.”  
“You mean… You mean I’ll have to play the best carrier ever for an indeterminate amount of time?”  
“Worried about the length of the performance?” smirked Skywarp. “You can work on your character and take a break when she’s in berth. And when I take over caring for her. When I might, of course.”  
Thundercracker groaned, not sure he was ready for this.  
“Hey, it’s not me that went on and on about the drama classes you were supposedly the star of before the war,” replied Skywarp.

“I see,” said the social worker putting her hands in front of her. “It is very kind of you to consider an adoption.”  
“My partner is dead set on giving a poor sparkling another chance at life. I mean, we could bring another spark into the world but there are already so many little ones that need care and love...” said Skywarp.  
“And I don’t know if I’ll be able not to bring all your precious little charges back to our home! If all works well, I want a large family! Little pedes running around and baking energon cakes and seeing the horrors of war erased from their poor traumatized minds...”  
“Yes, well, we thought we’d look and adopt one at first,” cut Skywarp, hoping his sparkmate overdoing it was not going to look suspicious in the optics of the short pink femme in front of them.  
“I am quite happy to see your enthusiasm, my good sirs. But I need to warn you. With the end of the civil war and the favorable procedures of adoption, we have few, although thankfully, sparklings up for being integrated into new homes. I see from your official papers that your are a stable couple and have definitely the means to care for a sparkling but I don’t know if you’ll be prepared for the sparklings we have here at the moment. A lot are actually younglings and the few young sparklings we do have require for some special care…”  
Thundercracker became crestfallen and even started to have tears in his optics.  
“I don’t care! I’ll love the little one no matter what! I’ll love the precious thing all the more and will accept him for what he is!” he exclaimed, banging his servo in his chest.  
“I see you are very passionate about the issue. I am thrilled. I guess it won’t hurt to have you look around. We can discuss any possible issues afterwards.”

The visit had been quite boring and hard on the nerves in Skywarp’s opinion. He was also fairly sure that the social worker thought his sparkmate suffered from severe processor issues, linked to getting overexcited by anything. When she casually said his mate really felt strongly about adopting a sparkling and nurturing little ones, Skywarp had whispered in conspiratorial tones to her that his poor sparkmate had been gravely injured during the war and as a result could not conceive or carry anymore, leading him to a nurturing obsession-compulsion. The look on the social worker told him that he had earned points with this tear-jerking story. Indeed, at least it explained to all the embarrassing displays of Thundercracker. He gushed and explained at each sparkling they saw, even the ones that were technically near adulthood and that Skywarp would have never let enter his home, let alone adopted. Some looked really like delinquents in the making. The younger sparklings were indeed few and if not playing, did not move very much, although they looked with curiosity at the two seekers, especially Thundercracker.  
At long last, in Skywarp‘s opinion, they saw a small room in which he could not make out much except an empty berth and what looked like a pile of pillows and blankets in a corner. He was surprised when he heard the social worker enter the room with guarded gestures and speak softly, then slowly shake something inside the pile.  
“Oceancoral? It’s fine. It’s only me. Can you sit up for just a little moment? You can go back to sleep afterwards, I promise.”  
A small femme sparkling, turquoise in color, and with empty violet optics had emerged from the makeshift nest and looked at the two seekers without really seeing them. The name was somehow different but Skywarp knew they had found the sparkling Starscream wanted. Thundercracker knew it as well because he rushed in and wasted no time letting his feelings be heard.  
“She’s adorable! She’s the one for sure! I know it!”  
Startled by the bot stomping in her direction, the turquoise sparkling cowered against the wall and covered her eyes with her arms, whining softly.  
“Sir, I wouldn’t…”  
Heeding nothing at all, Thundercracker grabbed the sparkling in his servos and bounced her, still professing his nurturing dedication but not noticing apparently that the sparkling was ill-at-ease with the intense display of affection.  
“She’s adorable! Have you seen a sparkling more adorable, Skywarp? She’s a hug and kisses magnet! Who’s the sweetest? You are! I can’t wait to bring you home! How did we ever live without you? Who’s her carrier’s bestest sweetspark?”  
“Sir, please, I warn you…”  
“Ouch!”  
The sparkling fell to the ground and in fright buried herself under the pile of blankets.  
“I tried to warn you, sir. Oceancoral has problems socializing. She is a bit peculiar, that one.”  
“It’s okay, I barely felt anything,” said Thundercracker sucking on his finger.  
“Please, tell us more. My partner seems most taken with her and if we can help in giving the poor sweetie a second chance…”

Back in the office, the social worker explained to them that Oceancoral’s real name was unknown and that she has barely spoken a word since a police bot had brought her in the day before. He had found her in the worst part of eastern Cybertron, which does not bode well. She was in good physical health, if a little undernourished.  
“However, we suspect her parents were refugees from the colonies because she had the habit of resting and relaxing in warm and humid environments. She snuggles under blankets for warmth and likes to lie down in shallow warm water. She’s probably from a warm and humid planet originally. But the older sparklings stated bullying her and she got into a fight. She became even more withdrawn afterwards. We named her for the necklaces she was wearing. Searching for her relatives has been fruitless but she was found with ribbons of fine silk material which implies she could have come from a well-of background. She might be a complicated case to raise. We will provide counseling of course, if need be. But there might be administrative complications if her relatives find her again.”  
“No matter,” quickly said Skywarp. They were close and he could not lose the sparkling’s custody now. “If the relatives come to us, we will receive them with all the courtesy that is required and discuss things calmly and sensibly. If it is better for Oceancoral to go back to them, we will comply. Once adopted, her welfare will be of the utmost importance to us. And if she needs time to adjust, we are ready to make all the sacrifices necessary.”  
“I love sparklings! I’ll stay at home all the time to help her get used to her new parents and her new life! There won’t be anything I won’t do for her! I love little sparklings like her! I love them!”  
“Yes, honey,” said Skywarp with an exaggerated patient tone. “I think the lady understood the three hundred first times you’ve said that.

After a few more papers signed, Thundercracker went with another worker to retrieve Oceancoral. He came back holding her tightly to his chest, cooing at her with reassuring words. Skywarp could notice enough details to see that beneath the shushing soft speech, kisses on her helm and cables and tender words of the sparkling being safe in her new carrier’s arms, that in fact Thundercracker had her locked in a restraining position and that the sparkling had already ran out of stamina to struggle against the infinitely stronger seeker. The soft touches were underneath as hard as steel and the caresses of the servo on the helm of the femme were actually maintaining her face against Thundercracker’s chest, effectively blocking any sounds of protest. Thundercracker even bounced and jiggled the little one lightly to keep her from trying to show her discomfort. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a sparkling clutching and snuggling in her carrier’s soft embrace, enjoying the warmth and closeness of their bond. That was certainly the feeling of the other social worker, certainly not the brightest spark around, as he said:  
“That’s so cool! Your sparkmate must really be something special because she’s never been held that long without biting or even hugged anyone like that!”  
Skywarp was rather sure Thundercracker would need some bandages once they were in the privacy of their home but the mech’s hasty and stupid conclusion was helping and he wasn’t going to stop him in his belief, however erroneous.  
“Are you ready to go, honey? I’m sure we are both impatient to get our new daughter settled in her new home.”

As soon as Skywarp punched the code to their apartment at the near-top of a fancy residential tower, Thundercracker rushed in with the kid still in his arms, deposited her without ceremony in a spare room and locked the door on her back as soon as she was inside.  
“Slag! I kept bouncing her to stop her biting. So she couldn’t get a hold. Her muscles tired quickly but then she used her jaw. I had to suffer her dentae or she might have screamed for help. Look!”  
Sure enough, he bore minute dentae mark on his chest.  
“It’s just a few dents. Not much to worry about.”  
“It hurts more than it looks. And when I transformed into plane-mode, she stayed huddled in a corner for a while but then she panicked or something and bit my seat. Pulled with her teeth and scratched. It took all I had to not land and throw her out. I sure hope Starscream knows what he’s doing.”  
“Good thing you did not. And congratulations for your performance. Not at all overdone… I had to pretend that you had a mental issue and an obsession for caring for sparklings… At least you did a much better job at the end.”  
“Well, that was enough acting for a day. I need a drink.”  
“Don’t get too comfortable. You’re back on stage in a few hours.”  
“Why me?”  
“You’re the one that desperately wanted to adopt and ready to make all the sacrifices, remember? I just support you.”  
He got up.  
“And I need to call Starscream.”


	13. The Seekers' Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northernlights is taken back to the two seekers' place and is left to ponder about what has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers doesn't belong to me, of course.
> 
> This chapter is shorter. I think I know where I'm going. I hope.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, if constructive. Requests as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

Northernlights had huddled under the blankets of the berth and not moved, curled up upon herself. She had been most surprised at being unceremoniously dropped in a room, locked in and left on her own. In the comforting darkness and warmth, she attempted to make sense of the last few events. She had been left at the orphanage by the police bot and at first things had gone well. The bots working there had been kind and soon stopped asking questions to which she would not answer anyway. They had raised their optics at her lounging under the warm water when they had asked for her to clean up. After all, it felt like heaven. She had not washed in a long time and she could pretend that she was in the warm seawater of Numeea, if only for an instant. And the warm energon given had been welcome, if stale. Perhaps Strongjaw had been right about something, in the end.   
But soon this comforting thought had ended. The other sparklings made fun of her accent and started pulling on her ribbons and necklaces, not to mention her cables. They asked her rude questions about her parents and her home planet and made mocking answers and comments themselves. They were bigger but she bit one hoping the rest would leave her be. It didn’t work and once a worker had separated all of them, she had been left in a little room. She had slept in a corner, gathering warmth under several blankets, and sleeping on pillows, ignoring the nearby berth. The den. She had just wanted to go back to her den. At least that place had been safe. The bot on the ship had been right all along. Strongjaw had lied to her just to make her feel better. And did he even think about her now?

But Strongjaw seemed to have been correct about at least one thing. A family had come extremely quickly to adopt her. She had heard the two seekers before she saw them and had tried to ignore them, or rather tried to block out the over-enthusiastic shouts of one of them, which had not decreased as they looked at her. She just wanted to go back to sleep and suddenly she was lifted into the air and made to stare into a wide happy face. This had been beyond her set of attitudes to adopt and after a few moments of deep confusion, as her feelings of unease did not decrease, she had bit the big oafish seeker to make him understand she was not agreeing to all this noise and movement. And she hoped he considered himself lucky. She could have bitten his hand a lot harder.  
But incredibly this had not deterred the bot couple. The blue one had come back, accompanied by a worker and had held her in his arms again. She was sure that she had been given to two residents of a house for crazy bots and that the orphanage was all right with this just to get rid of her. Suddenly, going into the car alt-mode of the stranger that had bought her seemed to be an idea that was not so terrible after all. She had tried to tell the mech social worker that she refused to go with these two crazy mechs but the blue bot holding her was either completely mad or a lot more intelligent than she assumed because he wasn’t just holding her frame, he was immobilizing her. Hating the feeling, she struggled but quickly tired out. She tried to shout but the blue seeker maintained her face right against his chest and still talked to her to cover any audible screams. His servo discreetly pressing against her helm pushed her faceplate to the point that breathing was difficult. In desperation, she bit his chassis as hard as she could but of course it did not help. She was getting confused and feared an actual panic attack. Not that the orphanage bots would notice anything! One even thought the blue seeker was acting like a proper carrier! Why didn’t Strongjaw be honest and tell her these social workers were indeed kind but not very smart? The blue seeker whispered soft words and pushed his lips to her helm, but the feeling was light-years away from being close to Sunstampede, Megatron or Strongjaw. His words dripped sweetness, telling her she was safe, that he’d take good care of her and that he couldn’t wait to hug her and see her smile and laugh. Somehow, even if he believed his own words, she doubted they both agreed on the meaning of most of them. And when he had transformed into a plane and his purple friend had set her on the seat, the seriousness of the situation hit her hard. She was taken in by a couple that either didn’t really care about her wellbeing or had no idea how to care for sparklings, whichever was worse, and that she had to snap out of her panic and try to escape again. Still under stress, she had acted irrationally and bitten the seat in the cockpit again. Once at their place, the blue seeker held her close to him quickly and they entered the building, the blue seeker finally letting his true colors show and grumbling about her squirming and how much he had had enough. And indeed he had wasted no time in throwing her in a room and promptly getting rid of her.

The room was small but clean, with a window overlooking other skyscrapers. Northernlights resumed sleeping, the tension finally taking its toll on her body. She had emerged when the lock had clicked open. The purple bot was on the threshold.  
“You’re hungry?”  
“Not really.”  
“Too bad. I don’t want to hear you crying in the middle of the night.”  
She had followed him to the kitchen where the dinner of energon cubes were already set. The blue mech was also there and handed her a plate. The dinner was eerily silent and about as comfortable as when she and her siblings had had to eat after their parents had been fighting and shouting at each other. She tasted the contents of her plate and found it good. It reminded her of the energon tubers from the jungle and finished it quickly.  
“Good thing you weren’t hungry,” smirked the purple seeker.  
“Hey, Skywarp. Why did you do that energon recipe again? You know I don’t like it.”  
“I did with what I had, Thundercracker. And it’s my sire’s recipe. It’s not so bad.”  
“I don’t like it.”  
“Even the sparkling is going to finish her plate before you. Make an effort.”  
“Can I have more?”  
“Sure,” the one called Skyfire said while actually giving her a real smile.  
She emptied the plate and even started to lick it, a habit she had developed in the jungle, learning not to waste anything. As she licked her lips and as Skyfire was serving himself a glass of strong energon, Thundercracker quickly exchanged his plate with hers. Northernlights giggled, not knowing what was funnier, an adult acting like a sparkling or the blue seeker thinking his plan could work right in front of his partner. But she started eating her third serving with appetite. When they were done eating, Skywarp asked Northernlights to help him get the dishes back to the sink. As she did as she was told, she started washing the said plates.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Washing the dishes, or else it’s not hygienic.”  
“You put those in the dishwasher. Didn’t you have one at your home?”  
“No. But my parents and big brother often complained about it.”  
“Must have been a miserable planet…”  
“No! Not at all! It was…”  
She stopped as Skywarp raised his optics in interest. She should not reveal too much about herself and stopped talking, turning her head aside stubbornly. Luckily, Thundercracker came in and rummaged in the pantry, pulling out a packet of sweet energon treats, and went away with it, earning him a reproachful look from his conjunx endura. Northernlights preferred following him.  
A little while later, they were sitting in the living-room, watching some series that Northernlights could not understand but that she watched nonetheless for lack of anything else to do. She then felt a light tap on her helm. She raised her face and saw that Thundercracker was offering her an energon treat from the box. She uttered a small thanks and reached out to it, enjoying the small token of attention. The two bots were settled in armchairs but she was left to sit on the ground. It didn’t really matter. The den never contained any chairs or couches worthy of the name. 

The days took on a certain routine. She was locked in the room when the two seekers were at work and she was given datapads and electronic games to pass the time. She liked to look at the windows, observing bots passing on the streets below. She hoped to maybe recognize her parents or brothers but never did. They were too far down to really distinguish anyway. Thundercracker had also installed a warming water tub so that she could lie down in it, steam surrounding her. It made her often sleepy afterwards, though. When the bots finished their day of work, she was only let out to eat and watch their big screen living-room with them afterwards. The programs they looked at seldom interested her and Northernlights had problems understanding the accents or specific words. Sometimes, as she sat on the ground, drowsy from the warm baths and vapors, she could feel the digits of Thundercracker rubbing her helm or shoulder. Smoothly, much more gently than that first time. She did not protest. She at least knew that Skywarp liked her because she ate all his cooking without complaint and that Thundercracker liked her because he could slip whatever he didn’t like in her plate. If dropped in Numeea, he would have starved, she thought. But she was at a loss as to why they had taken her in, because obviously they had play-acted being loving to sparklings and wanting what was best for her. Yet she had an idea of why as she remembered the conversation between Strongjaw and the other bot in the brig. If sparkmates adopted sparklings or that their bond was fruitful, then they were given credits to take care of the sparklings. An incentive to buy the carrying bots and Polarforce with her mother at the auction. The two bots wanted the credits they’d get out of her. They didn’t really care about who she was or what she needed. Strongjaw had been wrong once again, it seemed, and yet she couldn’t be angry at him. It was not like all this was his fault in the first place. 

Later, in their hab, Thundercracker was settling for the night on the berth next to Skywarp.  
“How long do we keep her? Did Starscream say?”  
“Until Megatron becomes desperate and will feel ever more grateful when she’s returned. Just a bit more time.”   
“What makes her so valuable in the emperor’s eyes?”  
“Beats me. Probably had her with a mate that he fragged one drunken night.”  
“You think? I don’t see the resemblance,” said Thundercracker.  
“She must look like her carrier then. It’s not like she exhibits any particular talents or qualities.”

The next day, as Northernlights was gazing at the street below, she noticed something in the window a few apartments from the one she was in.


	14. The New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While being locked up, Northernlights makes a friend, a young mech called Wildbreak. Unfortunately, the time of laughter and games is quick to end because of Wildbreak's parents...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Transformers, of course, but I hope all that like the franchise will appreciate the story.
> 
> I decided rather suddenly to introduce Knockout and his conjux endura Breakdown, along with Breakdown as their son in this chapter. I hope it will be appreciated.

Another sparkling waved at her from the window he was in, a few from her right as the buildings curved. He was stocky, a mech with an orange face, yellow optics and a deep blue armor. He smiled and his eyes shone with curiosity and excitement. At first very much surprised, Northernlights had clambered away from her own window, scared and shy out of her mind. But curiosity had taken the better part of her and she raised her optics above to see if the young mech was still there. Sure enough, he was and he smiled and waved at her again before the skinny femme ducked down again.   
What’s wrong with that mechling? she thought.   
She would never have acted that way. Then again, her introvert nature and isolation in the jungles probably didn’t help. And she could do with some company. Maybe she could make a friend and have someone to talk to. She should not assume the worst out of this mechling just because the ones at the orphanage had been mean and stupid. She glanced again and saw the mechling waving again. He then opened the window and stared out, motioning for her to do the same. She complied and decided to let him start the conversation, which he did of his own accord without missing a second.  
“Hi! What’s your name? I’m Wildbreak!”  
“My name is Northern… Er… Oceancoral.”  
“Northernoceancoral? Wow, that’s a mouthful… Can I call you just Coral?”  
“Sure. If you want.”  
She had almost blurted out her own name, which might be known, as the bot she had escaped from must be searching for her, just as her real name had been on a list of slaves for sale. Thundercracker and Skywarp always called her by the name the orphanage had assigned to her and it was better to keep it that way.  
“It’s a big name. But it’s cool.”  
“I guess,” she smiled a little. “My parents felt inspired the cycle I was born.”  
“I sometimes see you looking outside the window.”  
“Yeah, I stare down and I’m curious to see bots outside. The colony I’m from didn’t have many cities.”  
“Your parents are colonists?”  
“I got adopted by two seekers recently. They’re nice.”  
She had to be careful and not reveal too much to this mech, even inadvertently.  
“I’m bored. Do you want to play?” he said.   
“I’d… I’d like to, but…”  
Another sparkling had actually asked to play with her! On Numeeea, her brothers had gotten tired playing with her fast and no one at school wanted to associate himself or herself with her. Last time she had really played had been with Sunstampede in the Autobot camp before it got attacked. And of course, before that, she had played with Megatron. She had had to make up her own games otherwise.  
“My carrier doesn’t want me to invite friends over but if you can fly, you can easily cross to my window.”  
“Oh… I cannot fly… I’m sorry…”  
Wildbreak looked equally crestfallen. But then Northernlights had an idea.  
“The ledge of the windows are wide enough for me. I could cross the few apartments and reach your window. Let me try.”  
Before Wildbreak could protest, she had stepped outside the window on all fours. She shivered in fright when looking down at the steep fall if ever she fell over but forced herself to think about all the vorns she had spent climbing trees on Numeea. She knew that going on all fours would help her balance and that the ledge was wide enough for her and would not be complicated to walk across in any other circumstances. It was only the distance between the ground and where she was that made it scary. She forced herself not to stare down and in time reached the window where Wildbreak was apprehensively expecting her, his optics wide as saucers. He quickly let her in his home. They were in a sort of secondary living-room.   
“You’re crazy!”  
“I might be, yes, but I’m here!”  
“I‘ll show you my room.”  
Wildbreak’s room was full of toys as well as some screengames. Most toys were combat simulation replicas or sport equipment.  
“You play combat? Fire-shooting games? Or gun games?”  
“Not really,” she answered sheepishly. “I read a lot, though. My parents don’t really give me games to play with.”  
“Then I can show you!”  
Northernlights was just as bad playing video games as she had been when playing with Spacetraveller. Some things definitely hadn’t changed. After a few tries, Northernlights sighed.  
“I’m sure your friends are a lot better than I am at this.”  
“That’s true but I can’t see them or invite them over right now.”  
“Why not? You’re a nice mech.”  
Wildbreak smiled, blushing slightly and casting his eyes downwards.  
“My grades aren’t that great, so my carrier ordered me to come home straight from school and to work on my homework instead of playing with other sparklings. So I get bored on my own and I don’t want to do my homework. My sire will be home in a few joors and will try to help me, but after my carrier will come back from his own job and check on what’s been done. I’m pretty sure he’ll get very angry.”  
“What’s your homework? Maybe I can help.”  
Wildbreak got his unopened schoolbag and showed the different texts to read and the various assignments.   
“I can help you with the book chapters, but not the math. I suck at math and I’m sure your sire will help you better.”  
Before they started working, Wildbreak went away saying he had to get something. When he returned, he had a whole box of energon treats in his hands.   
“That’ll give us energy! Take some.”  
“Thanks! I don’t get these often.”  
“Oh. Your parents are strict?”  
“For that, yes.”  
Northernlights did not elaborate on the fact that it was more complicated than that. She received a sweet energon treat when Thundercracker lightly tapped her helm, shoulder or servo with it while he was indulging his own sweet tooth, simultaneously his optics riveted upon the big screen in the living room. When Skywarp did the same, when he was in an especially good mood, he’d have fun snatching the treat out of her reach, watching her try to catch it while snickering. At least the sire and carrier of Wildbreak had a better understanding of what parenting implied.

After less than a joor, the reading homework had been taken care of.  
“You’re good at this, Coral! Thanks! I’ll get a good grade with this!”  
“That’s nothing,” she said. “You’re better at combat and video games than I am. I’d prefer that.”  
“Not what my reading skills teacher says… And why do you say you’re bad at fighting? Combat is easy and fun!”  
“Easy for you to say!” she exclaimed without animosity. “You’re tall and strong! I bet no one bothers you. If I had been like you, things would have gone differently for me.”  
If she had had the built of Wildbreak, she would have been looked upon favorably by all other bots and her family would not have rejected her with such indifference. She could have defended those she loved a lot better.   
“Tell that to my carrier. He’s more agile than strong, but just as deadly. And he’s very intelligent. I look a lot like my sire. My carrier says it’s lucky I look so much like him, or else he would not forgive my lack of smarts so much.”  
“I still feel like you’re luckier than me. If I’m intelligent, then it never really did give me great favor.”  
Wildbreak seemed at a loss for words but asked Northernlights if she wanted to play at fighting and then he could help her improve her techniques. Northernlights agreed.

“I’ll get you!”  
“Try!”  
“Come out!”  
“No! Never!”  
Northernlights, pursued by Wildbreak, had taken refuge under his large parent’s berth and he couldn’t reach her, try as he might.  
“You can’t stay there for ever!”  
“I don’t know about that. My old combat instructor told me to use my small size to hide but never expanded on what I should do afterwards.”  
“Well that’s stupid. Where does he teach?”  
“He taught on my home planet. I have no idea where he is now.”  
“Who’s your combat teacher now? He didn’t teach you very much.”  
“No one. I don’t go to school. My parents prefer I stay home.”  
“Actually, it’s better that way because like that I can see you. I say you win. So now you can come out from under here and we can play another combat game.”  
After wrestling and shooting at each other with toy guns, Northernlights noticed it was almost 7 Joors and that Skywarp and Thundercracker would soon be home. The same held for Wildbreak’s sire.  
“I better be off the window.”  
“Be careful. And… And I really liked playing with you. Can we do it again?”  
“Whenever you want! Every day! When do you come home from school?”  
“At 1 Joor.”  
“I’ll wait for you at my window. I really had fun playing with you.”  
“I had a good idea, then?”  
“An excellent one!”  
She kissed him on his faceplate cheek, earning herself a startled look, a blush and a small smile.

The next days became the same and Northernlights didn’t see them pass by. She climbed over the ledge and went to join Wildbreak. After dealing with his homework, they played wrestling and fighting games. Wildbreak had to learn to control his own strength and Northernlights had to stop defending herself like a predacon, as he put it. They often ended up battling with pillows on his parents’ berth or Wildbreak placed her on his shoulders, spinning around to make her laugh. Northernlights had never thought playing and fighting for fun could be as relaxing and entertaining. Wildbreak was not the smartest mechling around but she thought he was the kindest. He also had a knack for uttering the most honest sentences in the most unexpected moments.   
“I like your smell,” he said suddenly as he struggled to maintain her pinned to the ground.  
“What?”  
“Your smell. I like it.”  
“Well,” she said, a little startled. “I… I like to bathe and to rest in tubs of warm water. I did that a lot on my home planet. I know it sounds weird to most bots, though.”  
“Actually, not really. My carrier is always looking after his finish and his very aware of his own appearance.”  
“You can tell him that having a good hygiene is important, then,” she smiled.   
To prove that washing and resting in steam could be enjoyable, they tried it out in the bathroom.  
“Amazing! Your carrier has all sorts of polishing and buffing products,” she exclaimed.  
“Yeah, he’s like that. I’m not. I’m more like my sire.”  
The experience of steam and warm water wasn’t conclusive for Wildbreak although he was impressed by the effect it could have upon Northernlights. 

A few nights later, Breakdown and Knockout were both reading datapads in their berth. The carrier grumbled about the blanket.  
“What is wrong with the duvet? Is it me or the pillows and berthsheets have become a real mess lately?”  
“Don’t know. I guess Wildbreak has just been playing on our berth. After all, you insist he comes back home right after school.”  
“He spent too much time playing. I understand he’s more like you but his grades have just been too awful. By the way, what would worry you the most, that I got three bad assessments from my hierarchy in the lab or that Wildbreak had three grades above average?”  
Breakdown took his time answering.  
“I don’t know, really… In the short term, I’d worry about you and I’d try to understand what would be happening to your mind. But if Wildbreak got good at school with no good explanation, then I’d assume he was cheating and that would worry me more. Why?”  
“He’s had good grades lately.”  
“Good. I’ve helped him with his math.”  
“And his reading skills?” asked Knockout.  
“He hasn’t had any homework in that subject. I’ve just helped him with the math.”  
“Not according to these assignment grades from the past week.”  
“That’s odd… Maybe he’s just gotten good at reading.”  
“As much as I love him for who he is and see the best in his capacities, Wildbreak’s sudden intellectual performances in literature just seem too good to be true.”  
“But how could he cheat, then? And why just in reading skills?” asked Breakdown.  
“That’s what I’m going to find out…” murmured Knockout.

The next day, after working on reading for a little more than a joor, Northernlights and Wildbreak played at throwing a light helium ball, trying to hit each other with it. Northernlights was getting good at it, to her surprise.  
“You’re hard to aim at, with your tiny size and dodging,” the young mech grumbled.  
“See? I’m hitting you more often, now,” the young femme laughed.  
“Well, it’s just because I’m bigger. I’ve got more surface to use as target.”  
“Very true.”

After that, they had decided to play hide and seek. Northernlights had just finished counting in the entryway and was looking through Wildbreak’s room when the house’s door had opened and slammed shut.  
“Wildbreak! Surprise! It’s me! I’m home early so we can spend some time together!”  
The energon fluid froze in Northernlights’ frame. This was her worst fears come true. How were they going to explain her presence? What would she say? Already the sound of pedes were echoing in the corridor. The bot was sure to check Wildbreak’s room. Precisely where she was! She slipped under the blankets of his berth. She could easily flatten herself and seem as if nothing was there. The size difference with Wildbreak was enormous and no one could suspect that he was hiding under his blankets. She appeared as no more than a small lump in the blanket folds. Maybe if she stayed long enough, she could slip to the window and disappear out of it later. Hopefully before Thundercracker or Skywarp came back.   
“Wildbreak! Where are you?” she heard from the bedroom threshold.   
“I’m… I’m here!” came a voice from the other side of the house. The bot thankfully stepped away from the room and berth. Northernlights breathed better but could still follow the conversation from what she could hear.  
“Wildbreak! Where were you? I could not find you. You were hidden? Why?”  
The voice was getting suspicious.  
“Not at all, dad! I was just playing hide-and-seek and… Er…”  
Northernlights groaned internally. Wildbreak had panicked and hiding her presence was getting increasingly compromised.   
“Hide-and-seek? On your own?” asked calmly the bot.  
“I was training! I was just looking for good hiding places for when dad came back!”  
“Well, it’s perfect! I am here before your sire so we can both play now! Use the new hiding places you’ve discovered! I’ll count!”  
The grown bot had been quite enthusiastic at the idea of playing such a game. A bit too much. Northernlights suspected that the bot, Wildbreak’s carrier, was aware of something, but didn’t know exactly what. Yet at the same time, as she could hear the adult mech counting, she was certain she could detect a certain amount of glee in his voice. It was as if he felt he was on a hunt and enjoying every second of it. This idea of play made the sparkling’s tanks churn and threatened to empty on the spot. Northernlights controlled herself. This was the last thing she needed.   
“I’m done counting! Ready or not, here I come!”  
Indeed, under the happiness of play, Northernlights could feel the steel of an implacable predator. The silence of the house was only punctuated by the bot’s comments as he looked through the rooms. The hiding little femme hoped he’d find his son soon and abandon the sick game but she had the distinct feeling he wanted to find something else than his own sparkling.  
“Not in the bathroom, I see… I better lock the door to make sure my little sparkling doesn’t try to find another hiding place…”  
This was worse than she had feared. The doors were getting locked one after another. Her escape route was to be closed soon and at best she’d be locked in Wildbreak’s room. Maybe she could wait there and then make her escape. Even if it meant she had to wait until the middle of the night. Of course, spending the night hidden under the blanket of Wildbreak, apart from being downright awkward, would mean that the two seekers back in the other apartment would wonder where she had gone. They’d probably assume the worse after noticing the open window, maybe thinking she had jumped to her death. It did not help things that the bot kept detailing everywhere he went.  
“Not in the kitchen… What a clever little sparkling… But the monster is there… Ready to pounce… And the kitchen is closed off… So where can the little tasty sparkling be hiding now?... In his own room, maybe?...”  
Northernlights stopped breathing and opened her audios as best as possible. She thought her spark would give off too much light and noise to fully hide her and reveal her presence in a matter of seconds. She heard the bot rummage through the room, fear taking hold of her completely.  
“Well, well, well… Nothing here either… I’ll lock the door and look elsewhere…”  
For a split second, Northernlights thought she had had a narrow escape and exhaled in relief but suddenly the blanket was stripped from her body.  
“I knew it!” chuckled the adult bot.  
Northernlights did her best not to scream. The bot above her had a red frame, red eyes and great long claws as servos. His look radiated intelligence and interest but not real kindness.  
“Coral! No!”  
Wildbreak came rushing into the room at full speed.  
“I’m sorry! We were just playing! She’s really nice! She’s…”  
“Now I understand things a bit better,” said the bot without departing in the slightest from his calm demeanor. “We’ll talk about all this. You first, Wildbreak. And then you… Coral, is that it? You’re coming with me.”  
He seized Northernlights by the cables on the nape of her neck and dragged her out of the berth and into the living room. 

Wildbreak had told the entire truth, not that Northernlights could blame him. There was only that to do. Northernlights could go with her story and talk about the orphanage and the two seekers adopting her. That was the truth, even if Skywarp and his sparkmate would be furious at her little escapades from the past days. But who knew? Then perhaps she could then meet with Wildbreak on a regular basis and use the actual door to do so instead of a window. But then Knockout, as the red mech was named, started to point out to information difficult to answer fully.  
“That’s your name? Northernoceancoral?”  
“Yes.”  
That’s what she had said to Wildbreak and it seemed stupid to deny it now.  
“And what planet were you on before you ended up in the orphanage?”  
“I… I mean…”  
Knockout bent over her and whispered in her audio.  
“You better give me the truth, little one. Because I have a feeling the police and social services would like to hear more about you, not to mention your adoptive parents that could be in big trouble for neglecting you like they did.”  
“I come from the colony of Numeea. But the couple that adopted me have been very kind to me.”  
“We’ll judge that later. What are their names?”  
“Thundercracker and Skywarp.”  
“Really?…”  
The questions continued, Knockout dissecting any incoherence or missing information from the femme sparkling. In the end, Northernlights got angry and increasingly and forcefully told him she did not know the answer. This only made Knockout more interested.   
“Wildbreak,” he finally said. “Take your friend to your room to play a bit. I have a few calls to make.”  
“But… But she’ll be fine… It wasn’t her fault… She won’t be punished, right?...”  
“I frankly doubt it, son,” he said with smile. “Me and others need to sort out why your new friend has been kept away for so long.”  
“But she can come back to play again?”  
“I’m sure, once we get all this situation sorted out.”

Once in the young mech’s room, Northernlights burst into tears. Wildbreak hugged her and told her that everything would be all right and that he’d explain to the two seekers that she had done nothing wrong. She let herself be comforted and embraced Wildbreak back, trying to forget the crippling dread of what was to come. She had no doubt that Knockout would soon find out that she was an escaped slave and she would be back to being in the clutches of the stranger that had bought her and whom wouldn’t be overly happy of her long disappearance.


	15. The Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being caught by Knockout, Northernlights is taken to the bot that had originally bought her from the slave auction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Transformers, of course, but wrote the story for all that appreciate the franchise to enjoy it further. 
> 
> Less action in this chapter but more on the next one!

In the end, the two sparklings had stayed a long time in Wildbreak’s room. But they had heard the bell ring quite a few times. Followed by a lot of heated conversations and yells, even. It was impossible to tell how many bots were in the room. After several joors, an eternity in the processor of Northernlights, the door had banged open, making her jump in the arms of Wildbreak. It was Skywarp.  
“You’re coming with us, Oceancoral or whatever your name is.”  
“Where? Back to the apartment?” she asked in a small voice.  
“No. Where you were supposed to go from the start.”  
“The orphanage, then, but…”  
“You’ll see. Now come on.”  
He forcefully grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the room. Wildbreak protested and followed them, shouting his questions and Northernlights’ innocence in whatever the grown bots were accusing her of.  
The living room held the two seekers and red mech Northernlights knew, but also a large bot that looked quite a bit like Wildbreak, his sire she guessed, and another seeker blue, red and white. He spoke first, his voice was quite nasal but his posture denoted determination and a certain amount of intelligence nonetheless.  
“I’ll go and take her to the penthouse with me, along with Skywarp and Thundercracker to clarify things and announce the good news in person.”  
“I have the feeling my contribution will then be diminished or even forgotten entirely, Starscream,” said slyly Knockout. “I’d rather accompany you.”  
“Well, you can’t,” snapped Starscream. “We can fly and may I remind you, you’re only a grounder, no matter how much you polish you’re precious paintjob.”  
“Fine. We’ll take a public transportation vehicle, then. Because if me or my son get forgotten in the negotiations, I’m sure the little one will eventually mention the good times she spent with Wildbreak and that will bring further questioning.”  
The bot called Starscream scowled and relented.  
“Come on, everyone, he won’t wait for ever.”  
Northernlights resisted but Skywarp simply carried her under his arm, not even acknowledging her attempts to get free.  
“Dad! We’ll see her again, right? Nothing bad will happen to her?”  
“It will be fine, son,” said his sire. “You can both play again later, I promise. I promise to try, at least.”  
Northernlights threw one last frightened look towards Wildbreak. Whatever happened, she knew she’d miss him dearly. 

In the transport vehicle, she did her best not to think about the stranger bot that was going to reclaim her. From his attitude towards her, she could guess that he just wanted to adopt her for the monthly or weekly stipend and nothing else. He had not radiated warmth or concern when he had retrieved her from the auction room. To forget her soon-to-be future, she looked at Knockout and tried to help Wildbreak:  
“Mister Knockout, I… I just helped Wildbreak with his homework… I never meant for him to get in trouble. And we were just playing and I enjoyed it. I never wanted to create problems for you or your conjunx endura, I swear. I just liked spending time with Wildbreak…”  
“I know,” he answered with a little smile and not unkindly.   
After a few kliks, he added:  
“Everything will be fine. And when things will smooth over, you can come back to play with Wildbreak. Because you were the right little trouble-maker, now, weren’t you?”  
“Not that I really intended to…”  
“Well, I for one, would not be so sure that everything will be fine for you,” smirked Starscream looking straight at her. “Brace yourself for a good a painful scolding.”   
“Stop it, Starscream,” muttered Thundercracker.

They arrived at a great residential building and stepped into imposing halls and large corridors decorated with delicate statues, exquisite paintings, artistic moldings on the walls and ceilings and precious artifacts. In spite of her predicament, Northernlights could not stop being impressed. Already where she had been on Cybertron, even the orphanage, seemed clean, ordered and rich compared to most places in Numeea, not to mention her den in the jungle and the makeshift Autobot camp. But this… This must have been what the richest and most influential could afford to dwell in… The sort of luxury she vaguely remembered bots in Numeea complained senators wallowed in while they were left in a humid and too hot environment, picking dirt and sand off their frames only to sip a tepid and stale energon in miserable shacks. Even the elevator fitted all of them with no need to squeeze between each other. But as they reached the topmost floor, Northernlights could feel herself panicking again.   
“Don’t worry,” whispered Knockout.  
“Us or her?” answered Thundercracker.  
“Put her down,” hissed Starscream. “You want to show him you’re holding her like a package?”  
Skywarp promptly set her down but made sure to retain her arm in his servo. The door then hissed and Starscream stepped forward, bowing.  
“Lord Emperor Megatron.”


	16. The Emperor's Household

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting reunited with Megatron, Northernlights is left to adjust to this new family and drastically new way of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transformers does not belong to me, naturally. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Northernlights’ processor had to have been malfunctioning. That’s all she could think of. She could not comprehend the situation fully. Or she was dreaming. That would be a reasonable explanation as well. But here it was. In a massive and lavishly decorated living room, he was there. He had grown bigger, taller and overall more impressive still but it was him. She would have recognized him anywhere and anytime. But the contrast with the dirty and even desperate bot she had helped out so many vorns ago was nonetheless impossible to ignore. He rose from the table he was working on and approached. All members of the party bowed respectfully, Thundercracker dragging her in the gesture.   
“We have found her, as promised, my liege,” said pompously Starscream.  
“Excellent,” calmly answered Megatron. “I can see you have done well. Now first things first.”  
He swiftly and abruptly clapped his hands, a distinct call gesture that broke no refusal or tardiness.  
“Optimus!”  
A large bot appeared from a corridor, blue and red and rather impressive as well, but in a nicer way than Megatron.  
“Go take care of her. I have business to attend to.”  
The mech named Optimus approached her as Skywarp let go of her arm, and he gently took her by the hand, leading her into the apartment. On an impulse, Northernlights turned around and said softly to Knockout:  
“Tell Wildbreak I really like him.”  
Knockout did smile back at her. 

Once the door was closed upon them in the long and large corridor, Optimus looked down at her. He had not forced her to follow her or been aggressive in any way, which a nice change.   
“Are you hungry? Lord Megatron wanted you cleaned up but you can eat first if you want to. I’ve prepared some good energon for you.”  
“Thank you. But… Why am I here?”  
Optimus looked a bit uncomfortable.   
“Lord Megatron is the one that bought you from the auction. He had hired somebot to do it for him but you then… Then, you got frightened, let us say. It’s a good thing you were rescued by the seekers. You had us all in a fright, Megatron and I, not knowing where you could be.”  
He had then taken her to the kitchen and served her a large plate a warm and tasty energon, along with delicious cakes afterwards as desert.   
“Thank you. This is delicious!” she exclaimed.   
“I am glad you appreciate it. I make the food myself. You can help me anytime.”  
But then Northernlights remembered why Optimus looked somewhat familiar.  
“Mister Optimus…”  
“Please, call me Optimus. Or “dad” or “carrier”, as Lord Megatron wishes you to call me.”  
“Erm…” hesitated Northernlights, feeling quite uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to be indiscreet, but… Weren’t you part of the Autobot leadership?”  
“Indeed I was. But at the end of the war, Lord Megatron showed me the error of my ways. The war was going to kill everybot. It had to stop and our race had to rebuild itself before we went extinct because of our own madness. He explained to me and my comrades why his methods were better and why ultimately the Decepticons’ ‘Peace through tyranny’ was in the long-term better for all of our people.”  
“So… Now you are living with him?”  
“Yes. He was kind enough to accept me as his sparkmate and thereby show by example what he wanted to build now that peace has been achieved. He also spared all my teammates and found them good places to live. Now, I help him in whatever ways I can.”  
“So what do you do? You talk with senators or other bots?”  
“No, I keep his house clean and ordered. I cook for him. This penthouse is his only real private haven. I help charity organizations in his name as well. As his conjunx endura, it is my duty to soothe him and get him to rest after a stressful day. But now, I have you too and I’m grateful for it to him.”  
“Why?”  
“I want to carry his sparklings but he justly argued that he was ready to start a family when there would be more stability and when he’d be less of a public figure. I cannot deny that he is right. But you arrived quite unexpectedly. We have you now and I can take care of you. Then you’ll have younger siblings to play with and live with, hopefully in a few vorns.”  
Northernlights could only smile at the bot because she strived to hide how conflicted she was increasingly becoming.

Optimus washed her and scrubbed her, all the while praising her and telling her how good she was. Northernlights felt treated like a sparkling a lot younger than she was but did not complain once. She preferred infinitely to be taken in by Megatron and his dutiful conjunx endura rather than by the stranger bot and it felt good to be told she was something better than a failure or a bot to be thrown treats at like something no one really wanted.   
After the wash, Optimus noticed how sleepy she was and carried her to her room. She realized he was caring and gentle, a definite improvement from the way she had been handled since the destruction of Tontuta. He even laid her down gently on her berth and made sure she was tucked in. Northernlights could not even remember when Quickslap had done this for her the last time.   
“Here. You forgot this when you took fright and ran away.”  
He handed her the plush toy she had left in the car. She took it and thanked Optimus. He kissed her good night and left, closing the door softly behind him and turning on a nightlight. Northernlights had never feared the dark, especially in her den. She had seen fluorescent corals and had enjoyed the starlight and the dark had engulfed her harmlessly when she cuddled in her berth filled with bird feathers. Here, it was strangely different. After all, Optimus had done more in one evening that her real parents had in entire vorns.  
She slept well, that night. Better than in a long time. She did wake up, startled by something on her cheek. She opened her eyes heavily and saw Megatron above her, caressing her cheek and smiling.  
“You’ve caused me a lot of worries, you know that?”   
“Well, how could I have known you had purchased me?”  
“That is true. But you’re safe here, now. That’s the only thing that counts.”  
Too tired to find a way to argue, she drifted back to sleep. 

Optimus shook her gently the next morning to wake her up and brought her to the dining room. A plate of rich energon was already waiting for her. She gulped it down and thanked the former Autobot.  
“Lord Megatron hired a tutor for you. He will arrive next week and will teach you in the mornings. You can help me in the afternoons. For now, I’ll help you keep busy during the whole day.”  
And indeed there was a lot to do. Optimus went to buy quality foods in fancy stores, had to keep the house spotless clean and cooked for long hours. Northernlights helped him and on the streets, even though she was awestruck by the cosmopolitan aspects of Cybertron, she dutifully followed Optimus like a shadow. Her first experience of Cybertron had been quite traumatic and she did not want to get lost again. Furthermore, she did not see how running would solve anything. This life was opposite to what she had lived in Numeea but after the destruction of her home and having seen what most bots had to live through, she relished the security that Megatron offered her. Optimus must have felt the same, to stay with his former enemy, not to mention Megatron had granted amnesty to the former Prime’s comrades and convinced him of the benefits of his rule. Still the young femme remembered how right and intelligent Megatron’s ideas about politics had been when he had exposed them long ago to her in the jungles of Numeea. The Decepticons had been violent, doubtlessly so, but the war had escalated so much that ending it by any means possible was paramount. At least the future generations would live better than if no war about better ideas and lifestyle had occurred or if the civil war had dragged on endlessly. Anyway, politics were clearly not her strong suit to fully understand.   
In the evenings, Megatron came back, to Optimus’ delight and he relaxed, beckoning Northernlights to come up to him and to snuggle against his frame. She responded very well to his affections and attentions but he always had to initiate them in the first place. Looking at movies on the big screen or to news report was not tense and Megatron was happy to see that Optimus and his new charge had formed a close connection already, both warming up to the other. After all, he and the sparkling had a history together and considering where she had grown up, settling in Iacon would be an enormous change at any rate. He would wait before introducing her to formal schooling. There was no hurry. She had understood the rules of the house on her second day here and things seemed to be adjusting well. He’d wait until she was a bit more tamed to introduce her officially. As for her enquiries about her family, he had told her he’d tell her as soon as he’d know anything. She had to be patient as the war had left many bots without news of their loved ones and all were seeking answers.


	17. The Brother and the Operation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter on the streets of Iacon leads Northernlights to reassess all she had convinced herself of regarding Megatron. But confronting him on his decisions just pushes her towards the fate she has strived so hard to evade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Transformers, I just wrote this story for others to appreciate these characters and creations.
> 
> Warning: a lot of angst and pain in this chapter, as well as manipulation and brainwashing.

Then, one afternoon, as Optimus was buying quality energon foods from a fancy delicacy store, he had felt his servo suddenly become empty. Northernlights had let go of his hand and rushed to the other side of the street. Optimus’ fright flared. What had gotten into her? Why did she run like that? She was so well-behaved normally! He let go of his basket on the counter and ran after the sparkling that had rushed in the busy street, ignoring the cars and other vehicles unless they were too close to hitting her, earning her insults and shouts of protests. Optimus saw her stop at the door of a fancy restaurant and calling out to a group of bots waiting there. He could only hear her screams:  
“Handomesun! Handsomesun!”  
He then saw one of the bots turn towards her, quite surprised.

Northernlights was gazing out of the window of the store while Optimus was chatting pleasantly with the seller, when she had seen a bot the exact same color as her brother. She couldn’t believe it! A member of her family! Here! It couldn’t be a coincidence! It had to be Handomesun! And he could tell her what had happened to Imposor, Quickslap and Spacetraveller! She didn’t think and ran as fast as she could outside, until she reached the restaurant, where two femme and two mechs were waiting in fine accessories.   
“Handsomesun! Handsomesun!”  
The bronze and copper mech turned around. The name was the same, so it really was her big brother!  
“Handsomesun! It’s me!”  
He started at her, frowning as if to remember something.  
“It’s me! Northernlights! Your sister! Your little sister!”  
He continued frowning, while his three friends asked him how he knew this little sparkling. Northernlights didn’t understand why her brother could not recognize her but then wondered if this mech was not actually her brother’s son, which resembled him extraordinarily and bore the same name. Handsomesun would have been vain enough to do such a thing. But that meant that as her nephew, this mech would have perhaps never heard of her. But before she could express her thoughts, the mech started speaking.  
“ I… I did have a sister that looked like you. A long time ago. But you cannot be her. She died on a far-away planet. You might be her daughter, but she ran away and died in a jungle. Good thing you weren’t raised by her on that miserable planet. Too bad you look like her though.”  
“What?... No! Handsomesun! It’s me! Northernlights! Your sister! I lived in the forest all this time! And then Tontuta was attacked and I fled but I didn’t know what became of you or our parents! And Spacetraveller? What happened to him?”  
“He earned a ticket off that dam planet thanks to his shuttle-mode. I had to find other ways. But it’s better now.”  
“But our parents? Where are they now?”  
“Died in the bombings. Sorry, no grandparents for you. Now go home.”  
“Hey, honey, ditch the stupid kid and come inside. Fun and practice for our big day,” said the pale green and white mech of the group, hooking his arm with Handsomesun’s and planting a kiss on his lips.   
They were about to enter the restaurant when Northernlights grabbed the mech’s arm, much to his annoyance. But he had to tell her what he was doing with her brother.  
“Don’t touch my brother! Who are you, anyway?”  
The mech let go of Handsomesun and told the three bots to go to their usual table and that he would take care of this. Indeed he did, by ripping himself from her grasp and slamming her into the wall.  
“Look, kid, I do what I want with your brother. He sold his body to a high-end brothel before the war to get away from the poor miserable planet you called home and now, he struck my fancy. I’ll buy him back from the brothel soon and legitimately mate with him. Government credits and all that plus great fun interfacing. So stay away from him! He’s not interested in a stupid little sparkling like you anyway.”  
“That’s not true! He’s been reprogrammed! That’s why he doesn’t act in his usual way.”  
“You assume wrong,” he sneered. “Then you don’t really know your brother. He never had any reprogramming done. He always was attracted to easy credits and luxury, provided by someone that worked, as long as he didn’t do the work himself. He just has his good looks and his charm and it suits him to win the credits of other bots, directly or indirectly.”  
Northernlights could find no answer, for all that the mech had said was true and she could not deny it, try as she might.   
“What are you doing? Release my daughter this instant!”  
Optimus had arrived and pulled away the mech from Northernlights.  
“Your daughter? Well raise her better, sir. She bothered my future mate by claiming to be his sister.”  
“I am his sister!”  
“If that gentlebot is your sire or carrier, then you are his niece at best and he has expressed the desire not to see you. The least you can do is respect his wishes and not annoy him further.”  
He then turned to Optimus.  
“I fully sympathize with your difficulties in raising sparklings. I will have my own in a few vorns’ time and can already see how hard yet grateful such an endeavor is. My deepest respects to Lord Emperor Megatron.”  
He bowed and when Optimus returned the gesture of respect, he then left, leaving the two together.   
“What got into you?” asked Optimus, more concerned than angry.  
“I… I found my brother… But…”  
“It is not possible, sweetspark,” gently said Optimus. “If your brother really had been that bot, Megatron would have found his trace much sooner and would have told you where he was. It’s a coincidence. Simple as that. But I understand how disappointed you are.”  
He took her hand and they walked away slowly. Turning over to the restaurant again, Northernlights could see in the window the four rich bots looking at her and ostensibly laughing. She turned away, ashamed and was led back to the store by Optimus holding her hand and telling her she must never cross the street outside the pedestrian passageways again, no matter how much a bot resembled someone she knew. But Northernlights knew that bot was Handsomesun. After all, she had had years of practice to recognize the mocking face he did when he humiliated her and the bronze and copper bot held the exact same.

Northernlight stayed crouched in a corner of the couch, reading and trying to obliterate the recent events and what they implied. She helped Optimus fix dinner but he could see her mind was definitely elsewhere. So when Megatron came back, he spoke softly to him. The sparkling was still reading on the couch.  
“I understand this must have been hard for you,” Megatron said gently. “You imagined seeing your brother again and that got your hopes up and then brutally dashed. Nevertheless, you must never endanger yourself rushing in the street like that or ask questions to strangers. Believe me, if I had had news from your family you would have been informed immediately.”  
He turned to take a shower but Northernlights could not just let him go. She started right in front of her and gathered all her courage to pronounce her accusation.  
“Liar.”  
Megatron turned around.  
“What?”  
“Liar. You are a liar.”  
He frowned.  
“How can you say that?”  
“You told me you had no news of my family. But I met my brother today. He was my brother. No doubt about it. He told me my younger brother was given the opportunity to study off-planet. He also told me my parents died in the bombing of Tontuta. A bombing ordered by Decepticons, if memory serves me right. And my brother is still employed in a brothel. About to be bought back by his lover, but still an interface slave.”  
The silence was deafening until the new emperor finally spoke:  
“Yes, I knew. But what good would it have been to tell you? Better to leave you ignorant of the horrors that besieged your family. And I did not know that your town had been bombed until after my men had given the orders. Believe me, I was very worried! Hence my relief to see your name on a list of slaves for auction. I knew you were alive and well. The bombs killed randomly. And what do you care? If MY memory serves me right, you never had no deep love for your relatives.”  
“It doesn’t mean I wanted them dead or stuck in slavery!”  
She then took a deep breath and breached the subject she was most anxious to discuss.  
“What else have you been lying about, Megatron? Because when I heard what you were doing to Cybertronian culture, I assumed it was lies spread by Autobots that didn’t really know you or orders taken in your name by other Decepticons acting behind your back. But now…”  
She had to say it. She had to. It was the only way to retain one last shred of sympathy for the silver mech.  
“What about reprogramming bots?”  
Megatron observed her with raised optics.  
“What about it?”  
“Do you… Do you allow it?”  
“Of course,” he said calmly.  
Northernlights felt her world shatter in pieces around her.  
“No… Why? Tell me it is just not possible!” she screamed, letting her anguish out.  
“Because it is better than killing bots that can be used another way and be more profitable to these new times of peace. But it is only temporary. All subsequent generations won’t live with the aftermath of war so reprogramming won’t be used anymore. Autobots won’t be around so the need will be gone and the practice will disappear on its own.”  
Northernlights crouched on herself, crushed by what Megatron told her.  
“What they were saying in the brig was true… All true… You really authorize reprogramming…”  
“Surely you see it is more charitable than simply deactivating all the enemies of the Decepticons?”  
“No! You are subjecting bots to the same procedure you warned me about and that I saved you from! Remember when I stopped Trepan from making you become something other than yourself?”  
She rose from her crouched position in anger and stared up at him.  
“Knowing I rescued you from reprogramming in the knick of time, how can you force other bots to go through the same treatment? How?!?”  
“Circumstances change. The contexts of your and my reprogramming were different than they are now. Much different. You’re just a sparkling. You wouldn’t understand.”  
“The only thing I understand is that for you the circumstances have changed and are acceptable only because you’re in charge. I’m sure Froid, Trepan and the others had their own excuses and good reasons too.”  
She let tears fall freely from her optics. Her emotions had broken a dam and there was no real sense in keeping them back.  
“You’re just as bad as they were… And I saved you… I saved you… I allowed you to live and keep your mind… All to start a war. Your men killed my parents… They destroyed my home. They made me a slave… And so many bots without their wills or memories anymore… How many have suffered through your servos?... And indirectly because of me?...”  
“Northernlights, please, calm down…” pleaded Optimus.  
“Optimus,” she said. “How can you agree to all of this? You were an Autobot! How can you become the dutiful and understanding consort of your former enemy? You do his bidding as if…”  
She then stopped abruptly, as understanding hit her like a piece of concrete on the helm.  
“You were reprogrammed…” she sobbed. “I should have guessed… I refused to believe Megatron’s actions while I had proof of it in front of me all the time…”  
She was in a nightmare. She had no other explanation for all her certainties crumbling like dust.  
“Northernlights, you misunderstand. I was never reprogrammed, I assure you. Now calm yourself.”  
The petite femme did the opposite. This just proved that Optimus had had his memory erased when he was reprogrammed. As had his followers, certainly. How many were intimately convinced that they were happy living with new families? How many sparklings were born of unions that looked blissful but were in fact shams? How would she have reacted if she had learned one of her creators was processorwashed and not the same person as she had assumed her entire life? She would be devastated by realizing such a thing. How could Decepticons live with partners that were customized for them against the wills of the victims and be all right with such a notion? How many lies and falsehoods circulated in every household across Cybertron and its colonies? Northernlight could not restrain herself and threw herself at Megatron. She wanted to hurt him as much as she was in pain inside but of course it was no use. Her blows across his frame were as effective as if she had tried to attack a boulder. Megatron did not try to stop her and looked at her, immobile, with a look of sadness, pity and disappointment.  
“You’re worse than Froid or Trepan! I saved you from reprogramming only to have you do the same to a lot more bots than they could ever do! I hate you! I hate you! I didn’t tell of our past to any bot! I should have told everyone who I had rescued! I should have told all what happened to you in the mines! I would have screamed it until my voicebox shattered! I would have howled it across the beaches! I would have shouted it at the top of the highest trees of Numeea! I would have shouted it to the stars!”  
Exhausted, Northernlights collapsed to the ground and sighing heavily, Megatron picked her up. She continued to struggle but it was just as pointless. He set her on the floor of her room and closed the door, locking it. Northernlights threw her own body against it, of course to no avail. She continued crying, gripped by despair, rage and guilt. Through her sobs, she could hear Megatron reassuring Optimus and saying he was going to make some calls. Northernlights was only barely able to discern a few words:  
“…unwell…”  
“…best for the task…”  
“… send you what I want and other exams…”  
“… call Soundwave too…”  
“… bring what you need to…”  
“… sparkling, after all…”  
She became very frightened and when after a while, too long and simultaneously too short, the door opened, she backed in fright. Megatron was there, but he wasn’t alone. A scary bot was with him. He had one yellow optic, claws, a purple color and a syringe in his servo. She screamed that she did not want to get a shot but Megatron had no issues in seizing her and immobilizing her and the purple bot injected the contents of the syringe into her arm cables. She continued struggle but it only made the sleeping drug spread faster in her frame and eventually she felt no strength at all in her body.  
“That will make her drowsy enough through the operation, Lord Megatron,” the purple bot said calmly.   
“Good. Thank you, Shockwave.”  
Megatron then grabbed a blanket and wrapped her in it.   
“I’ll see you soon, sweetspark. You’ll feel better soon,” he whispered and pressing a kiss to her helm.  
He handed her to the purple bot with the claws that held her surprisingly gently in spite of his aggressive-looking servos. On the way to the door, Optimus hugged her.  
“Why do you worry me so, honey?” he moaned.  
Northernlights attempted to answer but even moving her mouth was too tiresome and didn’t seem worth the effort. 

The trip to the lab was a haze. Northernlights remembered opening her optics and seeing she was in a vehicle, the purple bot in his alt-mode, but in spite of her fear, was compelled to fall back asleep. The rumbling of the car felt safe and it was dark enough to rest…  
She groaned when she was woken up by harsh white lights that assaulted her optics. She was being carried again by the purple bot, with on his side a white and navy-blue bot that had a red visor. His voice was mechanical and she decided she didn’t like it. She groaned, demanding in slurred tones where she was, but the purple bot used his claws to gently rub her on the back and told her she was unwell and was going to be feeling better soon. They soon entered a dimly lit room with other bots. Shockwave went to an empty cell and deposited the young femme on the berth, still wrapped in her blanket. He injected her with another dose of the drug that should keep her in a state of drowsiness until the reprogramming operation could commence. One bot in another cell yelled that Decepticons had reached a new low by experimenting processor surgeries on sparklings. Shockwave shot him with an electricity jolt and said he wanted to hear no more from anyone. 

Northernlights drifted in and out of recharge until she felt being grabbed gently and carried away. She attempted to hang on to this shred of consciousness.  
“Where are you taking me?...”  
“To make you feel better.”  
It was the purple bot again.  
“I’m scared. I don’t want to.”  
“It won’t hurt very much. And you will feel so much better afterwards.”  
“I want to go home.”  
“You will. Right after you are cured.”  
They entered a room with cables and computers on every surface. A large berth with restraints was set in the middle. Northernlights started to struggle feebly.  
“No! I remember this place! I saved Megatron there! Horrible things happened here!”  
Gently but firmly, Shockwave laid down the little femme on the table and adapted the restraints to her much smaller limbs. When she started panicking in earnest, he told her calming words and gently patted and squeezed her frame, coaxing her to relax and go back in her state of torpor. Soundwave praised her and encouraged her when she relaxed and did not move too much when the procedure brought pain.

Northernlights had felt headaches and migraines during the operation, as well as flares of emotion she could not control. The discomfort had been constant. Sometimes the pain had jolted her fully awake and made her cry, scream and thrash until it passed after a thankfully brief moment and soft words and gentle touches reassured her. Even the mechanical voice of the blue and white mech was a welcome anchor in the hurricane of thoughts, feelings and memories she was experiencing. And when finally it was over, she listened to the purple mech’s advice of resting because it was the only thing she desired to do and a sound advice indeed. 

Northernlights opened her optics after what seemed like hours but still felt exhausted. She did not know where she was but she didn’t care. The blanket was soft and warm. That was all that mattered. If only Megatron was there, then everything would be perfect. After all, she didn’t really care where she was as long as the silver mech was at her side.  
When she woke up again, the purple bot with one yellow optic was opening the door to her room, that for some reason had bars. But the mech had helped her get better and Megatron trusted him so she thought she should trust him and be nice to him too. He picked her up again and carried outside the room that held more rooms with bars and with other bots that were also unwell inside.  
“How are you feeling, little one?” he said casually and nicely.  
“I feel tired, sir. And my head hurts.”  
“That’s normal. It was a pretty hard fall you had. But you’re much better now.”  
“I want to go home.”  
“Of course. We just have to ask you a few questions first. Nothing bad. Nothing hard.”   
He took her into a simple white room with a medical berth and set her there. The medic asked her what her name was and things like who her creators were. Then he asked her how her parents had died. She said she remembered the flames from the bombs launched by the Autobot forces, leading to the death of her entire family. She said that the Autobots had let her stay in their camp but her capture and selling as a slave had been a horrible mistake. Luckily, Megatron had been there to rescue her and she was grateful for it. She had met him in the jungles of Numeea and if she had not saved him, he would have never risen to power and given better lives to so many bots. Herself she’d still be living like a little feral bot on a backwater planet with no access to medicine or education. Yet, right now, all she wished for was to go back home because she was still tired and she missed Optimus too. Shockwave noted things on a datapad and rubbed her helm, saying she had done a good job and been a very good patient. She could certainly go home and rest for as long as was needed.


	18. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron reflects on his decision to reprogram Northernlights and ponders on the other revealing results that Shockwave has gathered following other exams on the sparkling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Transformers, it goes without saying. I am just enjoying writing this story so that others might like reading it too.
> 
> Shorter chapter than usual, this time.
> 
> Last chapter for a while, considering how much I've written lately. I am running out of ideas too but will continue working on the plot and add chapters over time. That is my plan at least. Thank you for reading me and (constructive) comments are appreciated. As well as requests, that might get my inspiration going again.

Megatron felt very pleased. The reprogramming had worked very well. Of course, Shockwave and Soundwave were the top scientists for such procedures, so it did not come as a real surprise. He had the sparkling under more control. She had discovered his lies a lot sooner than he anticipated. He had been counting on a few more vorns, when she would have been older and able to understand why he had had no choice but concealing the truth. Unfortunately, this had not been the case. Reprogramming was the only solution available. He might reverse it somewhat later when the circumstances would be more favorable to having a smart femme around. In the meantime, it made things much more peaceful in the home. Northernlights still had trouble focusing on things and at times stared in space for entire kliks but Optimus had been the same and she’d quickly snap out of the habit. She was also more timid and shy, but a bit of coaxing never failed to get her to do something and she obeyed without asking questions. If she clung to Megatron and he had other things to deal with at the moment, he just passed her on to Optimus and she clung on to him. Because she came back with that constant habit: clinging and hiding behind the legs bigger bots. Shockwave explained that it was because the changes in her processor regarding fright and the sense of security had ended up creating this reaction. She was more silent than before but after her outburst that fateful night, Megatron did not complain. Northernlights when outside genuinely liked to clutch Optimus’ servo and she held no qualms in showing affection, falling into recharge in the arms of Optimus or Megatron while looking for a reassuring physical contact. Her dexterity and balance took a while to be decent again but that was a usual temporary aftereffect of being reprogrammed. Her sense of focus continued to be odd and ill-placed but Megatron saw quick improvement, also in that the sparkling shook her head in annoyance at some thoughts less and less frequently. Moreover, Megatron had other reasons to be patient with the petite sparkling. Shockwave had run other exams on her and found interesting results. Most interesting, in fact.

The sparkling was half-predacon. This explained her very slow growth spurt and her alt-mode that could sprout only tiny claws for the moment. Everything now made sense. Soundwave had estimated her future alt-mode to be a sort of marine dragon. This also explained her tendency to look for warm water and steam and to soak contentedly there. Megatron could only congratulate himself on having at his side such a sparkling, although at the moment the dragon was still young, small and had had part of her memory modified, rendering her not very impressive. But it also brought another set of questions.  
Her two siblings had normal alt-modes. Both the parents as well. So either that middle child had been a foundling or her carrier had decided to get very close and very personal with a predacon. As Northernlights resembled neither her parents, nor her siblings for that matter, he was ready to bet a lot of credits that it was the former. But then who were the real creators? Who had been the carrier? What did they look like? How had they met? Why had they decided to not only interface but also, sparkmerge? He did not know but it greatly intrigued him. All the more reasons to keep Northernlights close.


End file.
